Blackice Smut Challenge
by Zinfandelli
Summary: Posting everything i attempt for the smut challenge here. Summary will update w/ latest story. Day 21: A Sweet Dessert, Pitch's daughter is coming home and everything has to be perfect.
1. Sensual Foreplay

"I - what are you doing?"

"Touching you."

"Why?"

"Why? Because it's what you do. It's novel. You're mine," Jack mutters, his voice already low with want. He watches Pitch shift underneath him, uncomfortable, and smiles. Its a new concept, for both of them really, and Jack is hungry for the foreign feeling.

He watches Pitch's furrowed brows and confusion and laughs through his nose.

"Yours?" he asks, almost incredulous, but Jack's fingers pressing into his clavicle divests him of real resistance. Its amazing all of the ways he has discovered to defeat the boogeyman who once seemed invincible.

"Definitely," Jack says as he shrugs Pitch's cloak from a shoulder.

"Definitely not," Pitch protests and makes to sit up.

Jack lets him, and soon finds himself in Pitch's lap, his arms draped over his shoulders and before the man can shove him off, Jack captures the lips well within easy range now and threads his fingers into Pitch's hair to hold him there.

Pitch sputters and makes a sound of surprised dissent, but Jack is insistent and uses his teeth and tongue to open Pitch's mouth. The resistance is token by now, Pitch has some weird appearance he needs to hold and pride has always been his downfall.

They haven't made a habit of this sort of encounter. Not yet, Jack hopes they will. Pitch started it, and the few times their fights devolved into making out have lead to this. No fight beforehand, no pretenses of dubious consent. No confusion over intentions, it was quite clear what both of them wanted, and there was no one to stop them from taking it.

Jack hums as the heat of Pitch's mouth opens to him. He doubts he would ever tire of burning himself in this manner. Pitch isn't so hot today. Well, Jack isn't so cold from exertion and Pitch isn't so sweaty, they are starting on a more level ground. He likes it.

Hands find their way to the back of his neck and quite quickly, their positions reverse as Jack finds himself on his back, Pitch between his legs. He breaks the kiss that was only just getting indecent and loosens his grip on Pitch's head to let him sit up.

Pitch drags his hands from Jack's neck, across the small amount of skin exposed from his hoodie down his stomach to the exposed skin between his garments.

"I think you belong to me actually." He says, his eyes intensely focused as he pushes the black fabric of the hoodie he gifted to Jack up his torso.

"Do you." Jack is almost laughing again, the light touching across his belly button ticklish.

"I do."

"We could fight over it," Jack quips as Pitch brings his other hand up to the zipper thats been pushed under his chin.

"We could. But i'd rather do this instead," Pitch mumbles as he unzips Jack's hoodie and unfastens the harness across his chest.

Jack's exposed skin feels warm in the cavern air with no barriers to keep his cool in and he shivers as Pitch's even warmer hand presses up against his neck, fingers finding his pulse. His other rests on Jack's chest and he inhales deeply watching Pitch's face scrunch slightly in concentration.

"This is...novel," he whispers, his hand sliding over to Jack's heart, and Jack's breath stutters.

"Pitch-" Jack nearly wheezes and quickly grips one of Pitch's wrists to do the same, and his heart suddenly is pounding under that palm and Pitch's smile cracks open exposing jagged teeth.

"Does this scare you?"

Acknowledgement by Pitch makes it true and Jack shudders in his vulnerability. It is scary being at the mercy of his enemy like this. Former enemy. Friend.

"Your fear is delicious, Jack," Pitch mumbles, as his hand on Jack's neck shifts from searching fingertips to a gripping palm as force is applied.

Jack quickly digs his nails into Pitch's wrist and he shocks his hand back with the pain. "This isn't a fight, remember?"

"I remember," Pitch replies quietly, and cups Jack's face with his palm, his fingertips rubbing over his ear and through his hairline. The gesture has Jack closing his eyes, a sigh gusting from his lips taking his tension with it.

A trust has formed between them. There is faith in their strength and knowledge of one another. Jack takes solace in this. He knows Pitch does as well. He knows Pitch grasps for the balance Jack can give him, the stalwart anchor knowing that Jack can handle him, can defeat and subdue him.

Jack dwells in this importance. In his necessity. He can find his reality in Pitch, in the purpose it gives him, in the tactile reaffirmations of his existence.

The light massage on his temple has Jack drifting until Pitch's other hand slides a trail of heat down his abdomen and to his pants. Pitch moans audibly while trailing his fingers over Jack's belt and to the taught leather below.

"You're hard."

"I know."

Pitch presses down and rubs over him firmly, Jack responding with a deep inhale. He turns his head in to Pitch's palm at his cheek and kisses the calloused skin there. He licks at the palm and Pitch trails his hand down so Jack's tongue moves between his fingers before opening his mouth and letting Pitch slide them inside.

"And you're warmer," Pitch states, practically reduced to simple statements already from the sheer indulgence of being able to do this to Jack. To unwind him so easily.

"Because of you," Jack says and cracks an eye open to watch his words hit his partner, to watch as Pitch closes his eyes in turn and moans as Jack hits home with what they both so desperately crave.

He sucks on Pitch's fingers, feeling them cool as they warm his mouth till their temperatures equate. He licks at them and Pitch pulls them back to smear across his lips, tugging the soft flesh to the side then letting it pull back into place. He trails his wet fingers down Jack's jaw and neck, and they dry in the warm air of his lair. His other hand that stilled on Jack's crotch forgotten in the onslaught of other stimulus presses down and Jack makes a sound of want.

Pitch presses harder and grabs at Jack through his pants, digging his fingers in around his cock as best as he can through the tight leather. Jack can't help but shift his hips in need, squeezing his legs in and hugging Pitch with his knees to loosen the tension in the fabric.

"Pitch." And Jack is a dishevelled mess. His hoodie is open across his chest, his leather harness loose around his shoulder, his face frosted up in a blush and frozen saliva, his chest heaving with breath, and his hips squirming in Pitch's grip. He shifts and can't find relief in the confines of his pants, but Pitch doesn't seem eager to help him out. Pitch seems almost entranced by the sight of Jack beneath him. The things he has caused. _Because of you_.

"C'mon, Pitch," Jack nearly slurs.

"All right, Jack." Pitch's voice is deep and rich, heavy with intention and anticipation. He lingers just a moment rubbing in a circle before letting go of Jack completely. He reaches down and lifts Jack by the shoulders into a straddled hug before whisking them both away in the shadows. the stone ground is no place for what is to come.


	2. Vanilla

"Saints, Jack, you are amazing."

"_I know._"

"How have I never known _this_ about you?"

"Too busy trying to kill each other?"

"Perhaps. You are a wonder. I think I will keep you forever, just for this."

"I'm not a possession Pitch."

"You are _mine_!"

"Shut up. Here." Jack laughed.

Their voices carried from the most obvious of places. The kitchen.

Pitch was practically cooing over Jack in there. "Mmmmm, Jack."

"I think you're just being excessive now." He quipped, but really was still immensely pleased. It was rare to see Pitch so abandoned. It was really something. Could this be counted as another weakness? Maybe.

Oh...Maybe this was why he ruined easter! It was a perfect excuse. The sweet tooth on this guy was phenomenal.

"More, Jack."

"Ok, ok, pour more into my hands."

There they sat, on the large slab of obsidian creating the counters of Pitch's dark kitchen. Jack was cross-legged cupping his hands in front of him waiting for Pitch to tip a large stainless bowl over them.

Pitch looked ridiculous, perched atop his counter mimicking Jack who began to roll the thick liquid between his fingers freezing it and rolling it into a ball floating midair in front of him as Pitch poured.

Jack kneaded the custard in the air, running it through his fingers and forming it into different shapes to keep the smoothness and cooling even. Pitch watched avidly as he set the almost empty bowl back on the counter between them.

It took a few minutes for Jack manipulate the liquid into a solid, cooling it in the right fashion to form the creamiest ice cream known to man.

Pitch obviously couldn't wait, because a long handled spoon, already licked clean numerous times, was skimming cream from the outside of the lump as it spun in the air before him.

"I think this is better than the last time. Youre getting better."

"I'm a pro at this, thank you very much."

"And i'm glad for it, Jack. Here," Pitch scooped more ice cream from Jack's ball and held it out for him to eat as his hands were currently preoccupied. Jack grinned and gladly let himself be spoon fed by the King of Fear, finding it hilarious, but keeping a good cap on his laughter.

"Mmm, you're right, it's much smoother than the first time. I am getting better. What do you want in it this time?"

"Cookie dough." Was his immediate reply, and he closed his eyes reaching his hand into a swirl of darkness. After a moment of what looked like Pitch rifling through an over-stuffed purse, he withdrew his hand and a sticky glob of raw cookie dough squished between his fingers.

"Ew!" Jack laughed and nearly dropped the ice cream.

"Shut up. So my aim was a little off. I still got it. here." He shoved his hand at Jack who leaned back, frowning.

"You can't just shove the whole thing in there. Break it up into pieces and drop it in, geez."

"Fine." Pitch huffed then dirtied his other hand picking dough off of his fist full and dropping it into the awaiting swirl of floating ice cream.

"Hey!"

"What!"

"You can't just eat the dough either! I want some!"

But Pitch just sneered before licking more cookie dough from his fingers instead of putting it in the ice cream. Jack glared back at him in turn then shifted and pulled the ice cream to himself, pulling out a huge scoop to eat selfishly. He grinned slyly as he saw Pitch's face drop, and mouth fall open.

"That's not fair!"

"Neither is hoarding the cookie dough!"

Pitch glared at him, but Jack glared back, and he swore he was about to be tackled off the counter for a full blown brawl. Pitch hesitated a moment more before rolling dough between his fingers and reaching out to drop it into the ice cream, an indignant sigh on his lips.

Jack held the vanilla cream back out and let Pitch continue to stick dough into it, rolling and kneading it for an even spread. Soon, Pitch scraped what he could from his fingers and sat there licking his hand clean as Jack cooled and froze the dough.

The spoon was back, scooping out globs not a minute later and Jack actually did laugh. "You are worse than children!"

"You tahk dat bahk!" Pitch's mouth was full!

"Oh my god."

"_Take it back_!"

"Ok! Yeesh, fine! Isn't your goal to be the worst thing on the planet though?"

"Nothing is worse than sticky children, Jack," and Pitch's face was deadly serious.

"Hah. If you say so."

"Here." Pitch held the spoon out once again to feed his personal ice-cream machine. Jack opened his mouth expectantly, how he could smile with his mouth wide open was beyond Pitch.


	3. Shower Sex

A oneshot not pretaining to my other ongoing series.  
A college Au, with human Jack and Pitch.

* * *

If there was any plus side to this ridiculously overpriced art Institute, Jack would have to say that the bathrooms at least were clean. ..oh yeah, and the owner of the most popular bar just off the side of campus was stupid attractive. And that said owner of Onyx, one Mr. Pitch Black, was currently seeing him.

OK, so a few upsides here.

He did get perks at the bar when he visited and was able to line jump with his 'plus fives' whenever he pleased, but this technically wasn't a part of his degree and the wretched amounts of money he was dropping for this diploma were sometimes not worth it. That's how he ended up getting a bartending job at the club and met his boss and consequently started fucking him.

All in all he had to admit it was a pretty good setup, minus the weeks of no contact as he tried to finish assignment after assignment. But it was senior year, and he already had a stable job at Onyx and he was well on his way to completing an awesome online portfolio to proceed to open Internet commissions and make a life that, to him, was immensely hopeful.

Pitch seemed pleased enough with his plans as well, reaffirming their relationship and future by inviting Jack to live with him after graduation. Sweet.

However. ..

There were some things Jack had yet to complete on his college bucket list, and this he just could not let slide. He didn't get the reputation he had by merely working hard at his classes, oh no, definitely not. His list wasn't long anymore, he saved the more daring things for last. The goal tonight needed a partner and Jack knew exactly who to ask.

"C'mon, Pitch. Just put the hat on and lets go."

"I'm not going to be caught by campus police with a student! You are so lucky you're not a minor," The older man grumbled as Jack pulled him by the wrist across the quad.

Jack had it all planned out. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder stuffed full, and Pitch was in a friend's letterman jacket, toting a fake school ID. Jack had to say he dressed him up damn fine. Pitch already kept a rather form fitting wardrobe, but the girl jeans he stuffed the guy into were absolutely indecent. It would be awesome to peel them off in like...15 minutes.

Pitch, however was just about fed up with Jack keeping secrets and yanked his hand out of Jack's grip and crossed his arms standing his ground. "Jack, you better spill or so help me I will find a new bartender so fast-"

"Oh my god, Pitch. Just shut up and roll with it. I promise i'll make this...worth your while." Jack emphasized the last part with the dorkiest eyebrow waggle he could manage. For him, that was better than puppy eyes. Imply sex with Pitch and bam, he got whatever he wanted. Granted that his goal was actually sex with Pitch so it all worked out.

Pitch relented and walked with Jack towards the school dorms. He raised an eyebrow in question, knowing that Jack lived in an apartment for the past two years but he did as he was told and 'rolled with it'. Jack lead him inside and quietly checked in at the front desk and signed in his 'guest' then ushered him to the staircase and up to the 6th floor.

"Jack, what-"

"Ok, so...these are the best dorms on the whole campus. The really rich kids stay here, i've only ever been here like...5 times. It's great, the suites are awesome and half of them come with their own bathrooms. But this floor…" Jack lead Pitch down a narrow hallway with doors about every eight feet and a window at the end. He stopped at the last door and then swung it open grandly.

Jack bowed like a butler and motioned into the room, flicking the lights on as well. Inside was a private bathroom, with stone tiles, a single sink, toilet, and stand up shower.

"It has private public showers."

"You have got to be kidding me," Pitch mumbled and stood in the doorway looking put-off. "What are you thinking, Jack."

"I'm thinking, Pitch," Jack mocked his tone, "that we will be christening the new bathroom. They only finished the renovation two months ago." He then grabbed Pitch by the wrist once again and yanked him into the room, kicking the door shut behind him.

Pitch didn't have any time to complain as Jack shrugged the jacket from his shoulders and began rucking up the tank top he wore underneath. His hands were already on Pitch's chest before the man grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

"You are insane." Pitch muttered, but his resistance was futile.

Jack laughed and caught his lips, lifting up on his toes to reach his hot older boyfriend. Pitch moaned in response and his hands fell away from Jack's wrists to his ass and squeezed tight. He was so game. This wasn't even hard. Usually Pitch was more resistant to Jack's harebrained schemes. Not tonight it seemed.

He made little work of those girl jeans and tank top and soon Pitch was naked and leaning against the sink watching as Jack stripped his own 'disguise' then went for the shower. As Jack was adjusting the water, he flapped his hand for Pitch to open the backpack. Inside were two towels, shampoo, soap, condoms, and lube. Pitch laughed and threw the shampoo at Jack.

"Whats all this for, did you really want to take a shower?"

"I'm not passing up on a perfect opportunity, my apartment tub isn't as nice as this by a long shot. And, how often do we get to shower together anyways?" Jack said as he stood and set the shampoo on a shelf in the shower, then sauntered over to take the soap and other accoutrements.

Pitch followed him immediately, and before Jack could step inside the cubicle, Pitch's arms were around his waist and his teeth were on Jack's neck. Jack almost dropped the soap from the sudden action and the involuntary swoon it caused, then caught himself and laughed. He purposefully let the soap fall as he continued to giggle.

"Oh no." He grinned and tilted his head away from Pitch who took the opportunity to bite a hickey into his flesh while humming and inquisition.

"Pitch, I dropped the soap." He giggled again and could almost feel the eyeroll of the man behind him.

"Whatever shall I do?" Jack kept going.

"Well," Pitch said as he let Jack go and then shoved him into the shower. "It looks like you're fucked."

The both nearly choked on repressed laughter as Pitch followed Jack into the steamy alcove and shut the plexi door behind him.

It was cramped, even as Jack maneuvered and picked up the soap. Pitch's hands were on his back, and ran up his spine as Jack straightened. They fell away to his hips and Jack soon had his own hands in Pitch's hair, lathering it up with shampoo. It was actually pretty long, but the guy always had it slicked back in the sleaziest way. Jack was eager to get it down. Pitch didn't seem to mind as his eyes fell shut and he let Jack massage his scalp.

He hmm'd in pleasure as Jack scritched through his hair and turned to face away from him coaxing Jack to suds up the back as well. Jack obliged and pressed his body against Pitch's back, letting his hands smooth through his longish hair, then down his neck...then across his shoulders, then lower.

"This was a good plan. If you ever fail at artwork you can be my personal masseuse instead."

Jack put his chin on Pitch's shoulder and watched as he smoothed his hands over taught dark skin down to darker curls . Pitch had been hard almost as soon as Jack freed him from his pants, so he wasted little time wrapping fingers around his cock and squeezing.

Pitch leaned back against Jack in response, and that was actually a terrible idea. "Woah, don't do that," Jack gasped as his feet slipped a bit and he found his back pressed against the wall. Pitch stood, taking his weight off of Jack and turned around in his arms, grinning.

"Oops."

"Ass." Jack grumbled as he made to stand straight, but was prevented by more boyfriend pressing him against the wall. Pitch's hands slid down Jack's sides to his hips and he leaned in to lick the water from Jack's jaw.

"I want in you." He murmured against his cheek, and Jack shivered despite the steamy shower. Suds were washing down Pitch's face and over Jack, slicking them both up from the shampoo as it rinsed out of Pitch's hair. Jack gripped Pitch by the arms and pushed him off of himself.

"Thats the plan." He said as he turned around and pressed his cheek to the wall tiles, presenting his ass for Pitch.

Who needed no more prompting to spread Jack's cheeks and rub at his entrance, wet with water but not slick enough yet. Jack groaned as he fumbled for the lube on a corner shelf to hand to Pitch, who saved him the effort by grabbing it himself.

Slick fingers came back, and Pitch shifted Jack so he wasn't directly under the shower stream that would wash away all of the lube. He rubbed at his ass again momentarily before easing his first finger inside, causing Jack to gasp wetly and squirm under the attention.

"Hurry up, Pitch." He groaned, and shifted his stance.

"Why, you have somewhere to be, Jack?"

"No, standing all night is going to get painful, you a-ah-ssss" Jack's insult was cleverly cut off as Pitch pressed his second finger inside of him with a low laugh.

Jack tried to swat at him with his free hand, but was reminded of his precarious position in the water slick shower when his feet slipped again without both hands on the wall. He gasped, certain he was going to fall, but Pitch's hand on his hip turned into an arm under his stomach, catching his weight.

"Easy there, try not to kill yourself, hm?" Pitch reprimanded

Jack just grumbled and repositioned himself with an elbow on the corner shower shelf, and other palm against the wall. "Shut up and just get on with it, geez, i'm not that tight."

"How vulgar." Pitch quipped, a grin apparent in the richness of his voice. He obliged Jack a moment later removing his fingers and busying himself with the condom.

Jack made to stand up and rest for a moment, but a hand on the small of his back pushed him back down. He went with the motion and waited, tilting his head back to watch the shower water stream down Pitch's torso, rivulets between his muscles, droplets catching in his hair, on his eyelashes…

"You're so hot." Jack groaned.

Pitch just smiled as he rolled the condom on with both hands, then stroked himself a few times before coming back to his awaiting Jack.

"I'm glad you think so," He finally said as he rubbed one hand down Jack's back pushing off the pooling water at the base of his spine. He positioned himself behind Jack and slowly pushed inside. Jack responded by dropping his head to his arm and groaning. It was delicious.

Best. Plan. Ever.

It felt mildly dangerous, doing this in an inappropriate place, under fake names. But who was anyone kidding when they built these private showers, really? They were made for this, and it felt great.

Jack was pretty vocal as Pitch finally seated himself, and he shivered.

"You are amazing," Pitch gasped as he took a moment to just sit fully sheathed inside of Jack. Jack couldn't respond with more than a 'guh' sound, he was so full. So deliciously full.

Pitch pulled back, and Jack gasped for air like he had drowned, and when Pitch pushed back in he moaned indecently.

"Oh god, Pitch. Faster." He groaned, and was rewarded.

Pitch picked up the pace and Jack's cheek was once again pressed to the tile, his elbow crammed into the shelf, arm under his chin, and other palm flat against the wall. He couldn't do much in the tight space, but he so wanted to push back, to respond, and as Pitch worked him, as his hand came around and gripped Jack's rock hard cock, Jack forgot where they were and wailed.

It was so good. His knees ached from the position they were in, his back was strained, his whole body was going to scream pain at him later for suggesting this, but right now? Right now was amazing. He shoved his hips back against Pitch, trying to drive him deeper, and his lover groaned in response. He was so full and Pitch was so big, they were perfect together, and he was so close. So very close.

The hand on him knew exactly what to do, and as Jack thrust back to meet Pitch again it stilled. _That_ was not part of the plan, Pitch wasn't supposed to stop. Jack groaned for the loss and Pitch was saying something, but all he wanted was that warm hand to finish him off, for Pitch to come with him. He thrust his hips back one more time -

The responding shout was not one of lust.

But Jack couldn't decipher the meaning because jesus fuck! His support was completely gone, his feet were practically shoved out from underneath him, and his already strained knees crumpled.

Both of them shouted and Jack tried to scramble for the shelf he was previously supported on. Nope, the slick tile did nothing, there was no grip, and the next thing he knew his fall, while not very far, was broken by soft fleshy Pitch underneath him.

Pitch groaned in pain, Jack's elbow was digging into his chest.

Oh god, the water at the drain was red. Was he bleeding? He didn't hurt - so

"Pitch! Are you ok?!"

Jack shifted and slid, sprawling out on top of Pitch, he couldn't get a grip, both of them were slippery and the shower water was beating down as if their entire scheme was still going to plan.

"Fuck" Was all Pitch moaned.

Jack tried to get off of him, but he slipped again and fell chest to chest with Pitch. At least in this position he could see that Pitch had a cut in his hairline. He must have caught himself on the doorframe. Ugh. Not the way this should have ended.

"Pitch?" Jack reached up and smoothed over the cut, watered down blood trickling down Pitch's face.

"Jack." Oh...his tone was not amused.

"You alright?"

"Fuck you, Jack."


	4. Toys

Hot!Dad au! Hot!Dad au! :

* * *

Koz was worried.

So, so worried.

Jack had been snickering and giggling all day. That was never anything good. That was so far from good it made Koz feel like a choir boy.

Sera was avoiding both of them.

It was probably for the best. If his daughter was involved in any of Jack's pranks, she knew what her punishment would be. Swift and merciless is what. Its what Jack deserved too...but he hadn't pulled anything...yet.

He was all smiles and cheer at breakfast. laying down subtle groundwork to ask Koz for some money. He knew Jack's method, had been subjected to it before. Had adamantly refused until there was no possible escape route, and okay, so the money was well spent that time...and the time after, but this surely was nothing good!

Maybe he should just give in…

Maybe it was another impromptu cabin getaway? That would be nice. Jack worked so hard at the shop, and Koz hadn't had a day off in two months...maybe Jack was planning a romantic weekend?

That idea was dashed to pieces when Koz rang Jack up for their usual lunch phone date. Jack couldn't stop laughing for half the conversation. He mentioned the money again, saying it would go to a good cause, that Koz was just being silly, that Jack had no bad intentions. Hadn't all of Jack's previous endeavors ended up awesome for both of them? They had, You can't deny it, Koz. C'mon, just $55. That isn't a lot at all. snrk.

He was suspicious.

Jack was being too pushy. The mechanic was always pushy, but this was fishy.

When he got home after work, Jack wasn't back yet. But...Jack's laptop was sitting open on the coffee table in the living room. That was odd. The whole day had been odd. Koz let it be, but surely...why would Jack just leave his laptop out and plugged in like that? He wasn't late for work this morning so…

No.

He would not ask. He would not give in!

So, instead, he'd make dinner for when Jack got home.

…

"Mmmm, something smells good!"

"Lasagna, tonight," Koz called from the kitchen, as Jack kicked off his shoes at the front door.

Jack stayed in the kitchen door, leaning on the frame and grinned. He was covered in grease from the garage, and absolutely dirty. Koz smiled at him.

"I'm keeping it warm, you can go take your shower." Kos replied, as he took off his oven mitts and apron, setting them on the island.

"Mmkay. Just gonna check my email first." Jack said as he stood up and went to the living room and his laptop.

"Don't sit on the couch like that!" Koz shouted after him, rushing out of the kitchen just in time to see Jack freeze over the couch, then stand back up, grinning mischievously.

"Have you thought about the $55?" Jack asked as he glanced at his laptop screen, then towards Koz.

"No. I refuse."

"I think you'd really like my purchase. It's not going to annihilate your wallet or anything." Jack placed a weird emphasis on the word annihilate, Koz just frowned.

"Go get your shower," he commanded.

Jack just laughed as he sauntered over to the stairs. He laughed the whole way to the bathroom. Koz was extremely unsettled.

But he couldn't stop himself. Jack had made an obvious glance at his laptop, referred to it explicitly, let the damn thing sit out all day. there had to be something on there that Jack wanted Koz to see. This wasn't subtle at all, it was downright heavy handed. It made him wary...but his curiosity was too strong.

So he went over, sat on the couch and woke Jack's laptop up. He knew Jack's password and the desktop appeared normal as ever. Chrome was open however, and Koz went down and enlarged the screen and was presented with:

**This webpage (The link is safe)**

He slammed the laptop shut, his face never more bright red. Was Sera in the house?! Oh god. No - no, Sera was out with Tiana. Christ.

Choking laughter erupted from the staircase. Koz jumped to his feet and whirled on Jack.

"Jack Frost! So help me! You better lock yourself in that bathroom! You wanted to waste my money on this?!"

"Geeeeez Koz!" Jack shouted as he jumped back up the stairs avoiding a hurled pillow. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Grandpa! I hope it didn't _Annihilate_ your delicate sensibilities!"

"Go. Take. Your. Shower!"


	5. Size Difference

Highschool au!

* * *

Jack blushed deeply as the pair of them sat on the bench between the aisles of the deserted locker room. Marching band had ended for the day, and Pitch had turned up, leaning against the stadium fencing waiting for him.

Jack showered as slow as possible and changed clothes last. He was the last one out of the locker room, and had circled back with Pitch after everyone left to sneak back in.

It was daring, exciting. He was always game for some mischief, but it was still a bit baffling that Pitch Black, the scariest guy in their grade, wanted to join him.

Hell, the first time they met Jack was baffled. He was no stranger to getting into scuffles. Being a band geek with white hair and a quick fist landed him in all sorts of unruly situations. The past years, the other seniors just couldn't seem to wrap that Jack could hold his own. A scrawny guy like him beating up upperclassman?

Well that rumor got around and it attracted the worst kind of attention. Pitch's.

They fought, were enemies, somehow found themselves on the same side against the footballers one weekend, and bam, were friends. Then...more than friends...then...whatever this was. Friends who sat in deserted locker rooms in tense silence planning to go...further.

"Uh…" Jack muttered, shifting uncomfortably. Pitch was tall, even sitting he loomed over Jack. His half mohawk, gauged ears, black washed out ripped up jeans, wallet chain, and studded black tanktop was quite intimidating. He always wore dark clothes, and coupled with his dark skin made the kid almost like a living shadow gliding through the halls. Jack on the other hand, some squeaky rubber band of a kid, with ruffled white hair, skinny jeans and huge trainers, loose blue flannel, and abandoned beanie...was so not in the same league. They were practically complete opposites.

Pitch tucked his phone into his back pocket and finally looked up at Jack. His eyes practically glowed gold. Jack swallowed.

"I've...never - " Jack started lamely.

Pitch grinned a shark's smile. "You're a virgin?"

Jack blushed deeper and frowned. "Of course I am." He was stubborn.

"Isn't that...quaint." Pitch was smiling and danced light fingers up Jack's knee.

"Shut up. I've been...busy." Jack retorted.

"Being a band nerd. No raunchy band camp stories?"

"No. Not everything is a movie, Pitch. I worked hard, there wasn't time…"

"There's time now." Pitch said silkily. His fingers had moved up Jack's thigh and snaked under his top to his waistband then across Jack's stomach. The action had Jack sitting up straighter, stiff.

"Relax, kid. We'll have fun." Pitch said.

"Don't call me kid. We're the same age."

"Nah. I'm a year older. Held back, remember?"

"Y-yeah…" Jack whispered as Pitch's fingers dug into his pants. Jack gasped when they brushed his pubic hair and glanced up at Pitch, wide eyed. He was so sensitive, this was all new. He didn't know why he was willing to do this with Pitch of all people.

They had kissed before, made out, grabbed at each other through their pants, but never got further. This was their further, their first time together...Jack's first time ever. God, so embarrassing.

"Are we really going to do this here?" Jack asked

"Where else are we going to do it? Your place?"

"No. You're right. Just...You first. You get undressed first," Jack mumbled.

Pitch laughed and pulled his hand back. He stood up and undid his belt then the zipper of his jeans. "If that'll calm you down, princess," he joked as he slid his jeans and briefs off his narrow hips.

"You wear briefs?" Jack asked.

"Couldn't fit these pants on with boxers. Don't want my panty lines to show," Pitch said, grinning as he kicked off his shoes and pants, then bent over and tugged off his socks.

Jack's mouth fell open as Pitch came back and kneeled with one knee on the bench. He wasn't hard yet, but Jack was already blushing. Pitch had...Jack gulped. Pitch had waxed his pubes and Jack couldn't help but stare.

His dark laugh caught Jack's attention after a moment. Jack looked up to find Pitch grinning at him. "You can touch it if you want." He said.

God, how could he be so attractive? Jack had a serious problem on his hands, he was way too attracted to Pitch Black and that was the worst idea in the world.

Regardless, Jack scooched up the bench and reached up with both hands to rest his palms flat on either side of Pitch groin, taking the invitation at word. "Y-you sure?"

"I wouldn't be here if I weren't sure, snowflake," Pitch replied lowly, using the nickname Jack hated the most but somehow making it sound hot.

Jack's face was a foot and a half away from Pitch's cock and he saw as it began swell with arousal. Did being watched turn him on? Jack didn't wait to find out as he slid his hands in wrapped his fingers around Pitch. His boldness wasn't foreign to him, he was always brash, but the timidity that came along with it in this situation was almost numbing.

"You're so...big," Jack whispered.

"Gonna get bigger, you know," Pitch whispered back, and then inhaled as Jack slid his fingers up and down his shaft.

It was stupidly intimate. Jack's curiosity and Pitch's patience lead to something that was way more romantic than it had any right to be. The two of them weren't boyfriends, and this gentleness was very uncharacteristic of both of their personalities, but neither told the other to stop. Jack stroked Pitch until he was fully hard, till his cock stood almost vertical, till his own began to ache in the tightness of his jeans.

Jack shifted and winced, it was the wrong move to make with his pants still on. Pitch noticed. His hand came forwards and tilted Jack's head up to look him in the eye. "You get undressed too."

And Jack didn't have any notion in his head to refuse the command. He sat back and stood from the bench to pull his own pants off. He undid his fly first before pulling his shirt off instead, and while he kicked off his sneakers Pitch yanked his own tank off over his head and dropped it in his pile of clothing.

Pitch laughed. "You go commando?"

"Only because i knew we were doing this." Jack mumbled as he kicked his pants off his foot and was finally completely naked.

"Oh, you're hard already. Do handjobs turn you on?" Pitch asked as he sauntered over to Jack. He touched Jack's stomach, traced over the definition of his abs and down his stomach to his pubes and his hard cock sticking up out of them. "You are smaller." Pitch commented

Jack shoved him back. "Shut up!" He couldn't deny it, the evidence was right there. Pitch really was in a different league. His dick was at least an inch longer than Jack's, and he had no pubic hair! He looked like a porn star. Jack was blushing furiously, embarrassed, mortified.

"No." Pitch stepped back up and wrapped a hand around Jack's waist, pulling him into a hug. Jack gasped, his cock pressed into Pitch's hip, the hot length of Pitch pressed into his stomach.

"No, its cute." Pitch leaned down and pressed his lips to Jack's.

Jack shifted his face to the side breaking the kiss "S'not cute," he protested, but Pitch was kissing at his jaw and leaning over farther to get at Jack's neck.

"Okay. Not cute," Pitch said between pressing his lips to Jack's skin. "It's good. It looks good, you look good. Its a good size and...Manly as hell. How's that?"

Jack couldn't help but laugh. Pitch was ridiculous; it made him feel better. "Okay. manly as hell."

Pitch responded by latching onto Jack's neck and sucking hard. Jack gasped and pushed at Pitch's shoulders; he wouldn't let go.

"Stop! You're going to leave a mark!"

"I know," Pitch said as his teeth gripped Jack's neck.

"O-oh," Jack breathed out and then hugged Pitch tight again. "Okay…"

"You're mine," Pitch said, without letting go.

Jack inhaled and twisted his head slightly to rub his nose in Pitch's hair. "Then you're mine too, then."

"That can be arranged."

"Good." And with that, Jack shrugged his shoulder, dislodging Pitch who took the cue to slide back up and kiss him again. Jack nudged Pitch's lips apart with his own and quickly found Pitch's tongue in his mouth as he gasped in a breath caused by warm hands squeezing his ass. Any apprehension Jack had about doing this here, in the locker room at school, disappeared as it slowly settled that Pitch was apparently his new boyfriend.


	6. Bondage

This au might need a bit of explanation.

So, Koz is the hot middle aged father of Seraphina. He is also a werewolf. Jack is a cafe barista partime as he attends college in the same town. hahaha.

* * *

Jack grinned evilly. This was the most perfect of ideas. If Koz didn't approve..._well he's not going to have any say in the matter now is he_?

Was he a terrible person for doing this? Maybe, but Jack was dealing with some extenuating circumstances here that would never hold up in court...if they knew the truth.

This city had leash laws. Didn't matter if the leash was attached to your boyfriend, if said boyfriend looked like a dog 3 days every month.

Hey. Jack had even taken enough care to get the fancy kind, and Koz really wasn't going to mind when he was a brainlessly wolfed out overgrown puppy. Hell, he'd probably love it that Jack was paying him so much attention!

And, honestly, none of this would have been necessary if the idiot just stayed home like he said he would. But noooo, every month now this beast of a wolf showed up at the coffee shop and slobbered all over the windows and was such a nuisance that Jack's employment was actually threatened! _Then_, he followed him all over campus and whined as Jack shut him out of the classroom buildings and, holy shit, it was this or nothing!

He tried to get Sera to keep a better eye on her dad, but how can a highschool student manage three hundred pounds of wolf alone? Koz was a veritable tank and there was only one thing Jack could do. He was forced into it! Well...not that much force was necessary…

So, all that was left to the plan was to convince Koz to let him sleep over on the night before the full moon and all of their lives and gray hairs would be saved.

…

Jack was giddy, almost nervous. It worked. It really fucking worked.

Now, all he had to do was tote around this monstrous puppy for three days, convince Koz when he was human that it was a great idea, and there, they had their happily ever after.

This almost seemed too easy.

Way, way too easy compared to how he found out that the hulking dog that had become attached to him was actually the really really attractive man he kept seeing around town with the snarkiest little girl he had ever known.

Leagues easier than the effort he had to put in to convince said father that the wolf fur wasn't all that off-putting and that they could make this thing a real thing if he wanted to. That he wasn't as dangerous as he seemed to think he was and that he didn't in fact have to isolate himself and his daughter in fear forever.

And by far a millenium easier than it was to convince Kosmotis Pitchiner, that he, Jack Frost, a scrawny senior in college, had really and truly fallen in love with him quirks, mystical diseases, stiff personality, and all.

Well, he was still working on the convincing part on that one. But really, _this_ plan was probably going to punch him in the teeth somehow, he just knew it.

…

First, was work at the coffee shop. North was a pretty understanding guy for a boss, Jack liked him, but no one could push his buttons as Jack had done with his giant wolf like hound forever. So here was the first test.

"Hey, North." Jack called as he came into work early, it was 5:30am, the shop was just getting going, his shift would start in a half hour when the doors opened.

Beside him, on a dark leather leash, in a thick dark brown leather harness that looped across his chest, and over his shoulders to a pad with a loop connected to the leash on his back, was Koz, Jack's wolf-dog.

"Jack, you know what i said about your dog." North turned as he was tying his apron on.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry North, about the past months. You see, he's my special needs dog, and he's been in training...and you know how..well you've seen his training failures…" Jack tried. It was a lie, but he was able to wrap it up in truths so maaaaybe this would work.

"Special needs? I didn-"

"Ah yeah, about that too. Its really not anything big and it's embarrassing for me so i didn't want to tell anyone…"

North just stood there and waited for the excuse, he couldn't really fathom anything Jack was trying to pull...but the harness on the giant dog (what breed was that anyways? He was huge) looked sort of legitimate.

"He's my diabetic service dog." Jack said, tugging on the leash a bit, and he looked mildly amazing when Koz sat down beside him obediently.

"I did not know you were diabetic, Jack!" North's face crinkled into a smile. Oh god, he bought it! Perfect. Jack was in the clear. "But how does a dog help with that?"

"Ah, he's trained to let me know when my bloodsugar is low, and to alert people if something goes wrong."

"Very interesting! His training is complete then?"

"Well, almost. He is still rather excitable and over protective. I don't need him with me all the time...Is it ok if he stays at work with me?"

"Ah…" North turned and busied himself with setting out the syrups and screwing fresh pumps onto them. "We work with food, Jack. He cannot be back here to contaminate anything."

"That's ok! He can sit over in the back corner!" Jack said over-enthusiastically. He had no idea if Koz would actually do that...When he was a dog all he ever seemed to want was to flop all over Jack and keep an eye on Sera...maybe it would be ok?

"We can try it out." North conceded.

Jack lead Koz over to back corner of the coffee shop and sat him, then crouched in front of him. "Koz, you in there?" He just thumped his tail in pleasure at having jack at eye level.

"Hope so…" Jack continued, "Look, i need you to behave...somehow. Just like...don't maul anyone, and don't bug me too much while I'm working, and oh geez...this is starting to look like a terrible idea. Just...don't lick the windows, its a pain to wash off all that dog slobber."

Koz sat obediently, and Jack was astounded. To be fair, he had never taken Koz with him anywhere as a wolf, and had never paid him attention in quite this manner, so maybe it was doing something to soothe that rabid energy that always seemed impossible to contain.

Jack had spoken too soon.

So most of the morning was alright. Koz stayed in his corner, whined about every hour, Jack came over and scritched his head or gave him water, or took him out for a short break.

But then, the younger customers came in, the other people Jack's age, college students. And Koz was barely contained.

Some girl tried to flirt with Jack over the counter and there was barking. A guy handed jack a tip and their fingers touched for just a bit longer than normal and Jack had to squeak out an "Sorry, low blood sugar! please excuse me!" before Koz lunged at the guy. And North was just about ready to kick them both out when the wolf insisted on coming behind the counter when the next shift baristas came in, namely one Aster Bunnymund, who Jack had to admit, could have given Koz a run for his money in the rugged good looks department.

Thank god his shift was over.

College classes were far far easier. The campus actually was pet friendly, and Jack's diabetes excuse (he really did have diabetes but it was nowhere near extreme enough that he needed a service dog for it) was aces at keeping koz glued to his side.

Once the overgrown mutt could be attached to Jack's hip, then went very smoothly. He even played nice when other people came up to pet him. Which was again, surprising.

Maybe Koz was just attention starved and now that he got it everything would be peaches?

…

That night, Jack shoved Koz off on Sera and booked it for home. He needed some human time. He smelled of soggy animal and slobber from having to yank around his puppy boyfriend all day and the stress had him exhausted. All he wanted as a hot shower and a good sleep.

…

The next day ran pretty similarly. North was more tolerant, as Koz was a bit better behaved. Classes were boring as per usual , but having Koz sitting next to him with his huge head on his lap was great for his concentration. The mindless petting and running his fingers through fur was just what Jack needed to keep his hands occupied and his mind open and receptive. He wondered if Koz would be willing to do this on off days.

Well, tomorrow would be the test for that.

…

And tomorrow rolled around.

Sera had told Jack that Koz was pretty good at knowing when he'd turn back human, and would let Jack know when that time came.

He didn't have work at the coffee shop this morning, so he just had two classes and then they would be home free.

Koz insisted on coming to class with him, so Jack figured he knew what was up.

Sera shoved some sweats into his arms just in case.

His first class went smoothly. It was early, and since Jack opened the coffee shop regularly he had become a morning person, but today he seemed extra alert.

The second class was not so uneventful.

Halfway through the lecture, a whine erupted from his 'service dog' Jack glanced down and sat up straighter staring at Koz.

"Hey, Koz?"

"Jack, what is wrong?" The teacher asked

"Uh-oh." Jack bolted upright and nearly knocked his chair over.

"Are you alright?" Everyone in the class was staring at them. Koz had gotten up and was pulling at Jack's wrist that had the loop of the leash around it.

"Sorry! Low blood sugar! I'll just uh….pop out and go get some candy!" Jack practically squeaked. He had barely enough time to grab his backpack with the clothes in it before Koz yanked him out of the classroom.

Koz was making a beeline for the front door.

"No no nono! This way! This way!" Jack hissed and threw his entire body into shoving the monstrous wolf into the guys bathroom.

Koz whirled on him and then spun in the confined space. His eyes were wide and panicked - at least Jack thought they were. It was certainly claustrophobic in here.

"Just go into the stall and change!" Jack almost shouted as he shoved at the furry rump of his boyfriend. This was so embarrassing.

Somehow he managed to shove Koz into the handicap stall and he slammed the door behind him, running for the main door to lock it or hold it shut or _something_. Luckily there was a lock, and Jack was half turned back around when he heard joints popping like someone was cracking their back, _a lot_.

Koz grunted, and Jack could just imagine what it looked like as he transformed. Maybe one day he'd work the courage up to as if he could watch. Today was not that day. His stomach flipped and he was mildly horrified.

"K-koz?" He called as he inched over towards the sink.

"What…" Koz was panting for breath.

"You ok in there? I have clothes."

"What the _hell _is this?"

"What is what?"

The bathroom stall slammed open and a six foot four naked angry Koz stalked out. He yanked at the dog harness loose across his chest.

"Jack what did you put on me?"

"Thats what youre worried about?! You just de-wolfed in a public bathroom and your panties are in a twist over dog bondage?"

"Dog bondage?!" His voice was almost a disbelieving octave higher.

"Bad wording!" Jack started to laugh. he couldn't help it. "Its a harness!" he gripped the sink, and Koz stumbled back a step stunned at Jack's brashness.

"You put me in a harness?! I'm a werewolf! We're in public! This was incredibly stupid and dangerous!"

"You were...You were my service dog!" Jack had to gasp for breath, this was ridiculous.

"S-servi-" Koz couldn't even finish the sentence.

Jack threw the sweatsuit at Koz. "Oh my god, just get dressed and go home."


	7. Hickeys

Part of my Waiting for You series again. Enjoy

* * *

Jack considered himself fairly well versed in bruise-ology. The art of contusions, of blunt trauma, was no mystery to him, even before Pitch and he established their… thing.

Biting was also a pretty well used technique. He didn't resort to it so much these days, now that he was in more civil company, but his teeth had served him well throughout the years.

He had, however, never paid much attention to the effects of biting and the aftermath of such action. Really, baring his teeth was either an intimidation tactic, or used for ripping to cause as much damage as possible to end the encounter as quickly as he could.

The life-or-death situations Jack found himself in now didn't call for such drastic measures. Chewing out chunks of flesh really wasn't in the scheme of things these days. The only blood that was drawn between them occurred from blade slicing, or scrapes…. Maybe some morbid curiosity with fingers prying open a cut… But nothing so brutal as tearing flesh apart with his teeth.

Jack grinned because he fancied Pitch would be horrified to see his mouth dripping with blood. The guy barely held it together when he had to dig out his esophagus that one time, seeing Jack willingly chomp on a limb or throat might send him into hysterics.

Actually…

That's exactly what Jack thought he should do.

…

Finally, Jack caught himself after a fifty meter fall from the clouds. Pitch had knocked his staff from his hands and while Jack was getting better at flying without it, he still needed it within his sphere of influence to perform most magics.

Having it drop out of the sky was not in his sphere.

He had to tuck in and dive for the stick as Pitch raced him down through the air shooting out sand to knock him off course or slow him down. Jack had little maneuverability while falling like a rock, but he managed to only dislocate a shoulder from a more-solid-than-it-had-any-right-to-be cloud of black sand that sent him spiralling off to the left.

He was able to use the spin to slice through the air and finally found his fingers wrapping around the shaft of his staff.

With a huge gust of wind, Jack swooped back up into the sky and away from Pitch. That was close. The ground was only thirty feet below them. Pitch would have won the whole duel if Jack had crashed.

Spinning back around to face him, Jack saw Pitch was much closer to the earth, he hadn't stopped as quickly as Jack and he was making to fly back at him, scythe in one hand, roiling cloud of nightmare sand beneath him.

Oh. Perfect opportunity.

With a shout, Jack summoned the wind behind him and rocketed straight at Pitch. Pitch decided to try and counter Jack head on. Wrong move.

Jack barreled right into Pitch's stomach not a second later and both of them went sprawling the last few meters into the wheat field. They left a tumbled skid of broken stalked behind them.

Pitch's hands were at Jack's shoulders ready to push him off, but Jack was faster. He was usually always faster. His teeth dug into Pitch's neck and Jack quickly tasted dark viscous blood.

"O-o-oW! Jack!" Pitch shrieked as his hands moved to Jack's hair and tried to pull him off his neck by it. Jack was not about to give in

"Let go!" Pitch shouted as he struggled to dislodge Jack anyway he knew how.

Jack's hands came up and pinned Pitch down by his upper arms, and his knees gripped at Pitch's waist effectively making his legs useless as they couldn't reach Jack hunched up on his torso. Hot, nearly burning liquid slid along his tongue as he licked and sipped it from the wounds his blunt teeth created.

"Forsaken Moons, you animal! Get off!" And Jack let go with a laugh.

He sat up just a bit, and grinned with reddened teeth, blood dripping down his chin. He didn't rip a whole chunk out of Pitch's neck like he planned, but the wound was still deep.

"You are positively feral!" Pitch groaned, thoroughly not impressed.

Jack just laughed again and dove down to make another bite.

"No! Cut it out!"

Jack hummed a sarcastic sound and instead of breaking skin he latched onto the soft flesh on the other side of Pitch's neck and sucked. He put as much force as he could into the action and rolled the skin between his teeth. Pitch was gasping beneath him, his fingers tightening in his hair and on his shoulder, digging his nails in.

Jack was certain his hair was now reddened as well, claws pulling out strands and gouging at his scalp. He hummed again and Pitch shuddered beneath him. He let go and moved a bit further down, just above his clavicle.

Leaching onto his neck for a third time, Jack found Pitch's protests distinctly shifted from angered to confused. Jack changed location again and wrapped his teeth lightly across Pitch's throat and bit at his adam's apple. The noise that vibrated from Pitch then was quite noticeably pleased. The fingers in Jack's hair loosened from a death grip to something possessive and encouraging.

Jack had only planned to shock the man and get a good laugh out of it, but with his goal completed and him finding no want to stop, things changed.

He shifted down and kissed at Pitch's sternum and suckled once again for a few seconds and sat back to see the fruits of his labor. All the spots he had attacked had dark blemishes as Pitch's blood was drawn to the surface of his skin, as the force of Jack's teeth and breath broke vessels and created bruises.

Pitch bruised black.

It was mesmerizing. Jack wondered if his body was dead just like his. That if his blood was some weird color inside of him that changed to red as it hit the air. The oozing stuff on the deep wound of his neck seemed to suggest it. It also seemed like Pitch's blood flowed slower, was more like honey dripping from a comb than gushing water from a freshly thawed stream.

Jack dove down and bit into his chest to find out. Pitch twitched and inhaled sharply at the sudden action, then squirmed as Jack sucked blood from the newest wound. Jack could hear his heart thumping under his ribs, it wasn't speedy or frantic, it was steady and paced. Pitch had barely had enough time to come down from the adrenaline high of their fight, and the way his fingers pulled at Jack's hair suggested he was still riding it. So then… maybe.

Jack's own heart was a rabbit's thump. Falling had just about sent it out of his chest in anxious frightened glee, and then the tackle was exhilarating.

He licked a striped of red up Pitch's shoulder, back to his neck and pressed a forceful kiss to the little remaining patch of unmarred skin.

"Why this?" Pitch croaked.

"Just for fun," Jack replied as he pulled Pitch's skin between his teeth.

"For fun," Pitch deadpanned as his gaze focused straight up.

"And to see how you'd react." Jack let go of his neck and shifted up to look down at Pitch's face, his smile and chin soaked red.

Pitch's hand in his hair pulled him down into a kiss. His searing tongue licked the blood from Jack's lips and then pushed into his mouth, burning just as hot as his blood did, cooling much slower.

Jack threaded his own hands into Pitch's was the perfect way to draw even for a fight.


	8. In Public

Just a standard fare canon-ish post movie ua. :)

* * *

Uh… well…

Maybe the Guardians wouldn't notice… Maybe. Hopefully. Oh, who was he kidding. Of course they'd notice!

His shadow was most certainly nowhere near believably inanimate.

It was super dumb of him to go snooping back at Pitch's lair barely a year after they shoved him down in there, and now look at what he was stuck with!

His shadow _was _Pitch.

The guy was barely able to conjure up a solid body when Jack found him and the tantrum he threw because of it, while impressive, was still just mopey shouting.

Jack felt bad. It was by his hand that Pitch had been defeated so soundly. He wished there was like...some other way to have kicked his ass and saved the world...but there really was no alternative. Sometimes a slap in the face was just what an hysterical shrieking diva needed.

So he did it again.

He froze Pitch's raving shadow solid and left the wight there to 'cool down'.

He returned a month later to a much more reasonable, if not morosely depressed, king of nightmares.

And they got to talking.

Then hanging out.

Then… making out.

It was a logical progression of a relationship, really!

Pitch could barely hold together a corporeal body to perform said actions of affection anyways, so Jack wasn't really 'joining the enemy'. And Pitch turned out to be pretty awesome. He was ridiculously wise and had a lot to say on history, philosophy, and psychology. He was a master at manipulation, and started to teach Jack how to word things to get what he wanted as well. Jack loved human history, too, as he was able to see what he could of it progress, but Pitch had amazing stories about the years before Jack was alive, and awesome addendums to the botched human history books Jack had studied in his years of boredom.

He was really failing to see where the line of bad and good stood. Ok, torturing and traumatizing children was the line. That was pretty clear. But, when Pitch wasn't attempting to do just that he was rather pleasant. Jack could accept their differing views on morals and rights and wrongs, so long as they mostly remained vocal debates and not malicious actions. Pitch wasn't strong enough to act upon his beliefs at the moment anyways.

Those discussions are how the pair of them ended up like they had. Jack was a bit fishy on the whole subject, but he didn't want to see Pitch left to fade away, and he really wanted to properly kiss the guy.

Soooooo… He let Pitch possess his shadow… and agreed to help him go scaring a bit to scrounge up some believers.

Well, Jack didn't really know that his shadow would turn into this writhing eldritch abomination, now did he? And to make it all worse, the aurora borealis just _had_ to twinkle across the sky in summons _just_ as they ventured out of the lair for the first time.

Pitch threw up a huge fuss, but Jack just couldn't ignore it! They'd just… have to play it cool… or something.

…

When Jack arrived at Santoff Claussen, the other four guardians were already seated around the large table that sat in front of the fireplace on the globe floor. Jack glided down to the table, not able to find his usual smile. The rest of the Guardians looked grim.

"Good! Jack you are here!" North said. Jack sighed in relief, they hadn't noticed his shadow yet, was Pitch playing it cool?

"Alright, mates," Bunny said. "I've had a spell on Pitch's lair and it went off today. Pitch has escaped."

Jack nearly choked. His shadow had completely different reaction.

A huge monster erupted from Jack's feet and eclipsed half the room with sinister spikes and tentacles, all in silhouette. Pitch's voice cackled madly from seemingly everywhere.

"Fool! Of course I escaped! You underestimate me!"

The baby teeth huddled against Tooth as she gasped in surprise. Bunny was instantly upon the table both boomerangs drawn. North was bewildered and looking for a yeti, any yeti, to get his swords. Sandy was asleep.

Jack's face was nearly crimson in a blush. "Oh my god, Pitch you are terrible, cut it out," he groaned. All eyes turned to him.

"Jack?" North asked.

Tooth zipped over to him and grasped him by the face and stared into his eyes "Oh my god are you possessed?!" she yelped.

"Jack." Bunny sounded furious.

Pitch went off into some kind of maniacal rant. He was explaining plans of domination, promising their demise. His shadow whipped and writhed around the room, the base of it solidly attached to Jack's feet.

"Uh."

"What is the meaning of this, Frostbite?" Bunny threatened.

All of the Guardians some completely tuned Pitch's raving out, he was somehow completely unimportant.

"I, uh…"

Tooth pried Jack's mouth open and peered inside. "Well, he's not possessed." She concluded and let him go. All of the baby teeth let out a collective sigh of relief.

"How is that possible?" North asked as he approached, then leaned against the table, arms folded over his chest, that naughty tattoo taking prominent focus.

"M-my shadow." Jack stuttered nervously. "I let him possess my shadow."

Tooth actually laughed. Jack's mouth fell open.

"Oh, is that all?" She giggled then floated back over to the table to sit down.

"Why in bloody hell would you ever think that to be a good idea?!" Bunny hopped off the table and crowded into Jack's personal space.

Jack couldn't help but take a step back. The action quietened Pitch's soliloquy.

"He wasn't in a good way!" Jack couldn't help defending himself. "We was dying down there! And really… really sad." Wow, that was the lamest finish ever.

"Jack…" Tooth said sympathetically.

"I wasn't dying," Pitch chimed in, and everyone looked up.

"Ok… If you say so," Jack mumbled. He felt incredibly small and foolish.

North stood and stepped over to give Jack a hearty pat on the back. "Your heart is bigger than all of ours, my friend. Maybe, it's a good idea, keeping Pitch in view."

"He isn't keeping me. Jack is mine!" Pitch growled.

Quickly, the shadows coalesced upon Jack and he was swarmed with darkness. Bunny gasped and hopped back, North did the same.

Jack's own fear spiked. He didn't know Pitch could do this! He tried to pry the shadows off but they clung to him and a tingling erupted all over his skin. Jack gasped.

"I told ya this was bad, ya gumby! Pitch, let him go!" Bunny shouted.

"Never! He is mine now, foolish Guardians!"

But the tension completely broke because Jack just could not hold it in and a barking abrupt laugh tore from his throat. Everyone stopped. Jack didn't. He nearly doubled over in laughter, his arms coming up and clutching at his stomach.

His knees buckled and he dropped his staff and fell to the ground all while giggling inconsolably.

"N-nooooo-o-o!" He gasped like he was drowning and writhed on the floor. "No! P-p-pitch! S-STOP! I CAN'T! I-I-I- M-MERCY! OH-uncle! UNCLE!" He shrieked between gasps and laughs and wiggled hardly being able to breathe.

"Whuh-?" Bunny was dumbstruck. All of them were.

"What are you doing to him?!" North shouted.

"I-I…" Pitch's voice seemed just as stunned. "I don't know?"

"Stop Pitch! You're going to kill him!" Tooth shrieked.

And he did. He did stop, Pitch seemed almost just as freaked out as the rest of them.

"Jack?" Pitch's voice asked, the shadows melted off of him and pooled around Jack on the floor, who almost immediately stopped shouting and pleading. He was left a pile on the floor gasping for air.

"Jack?" all of the Guardians said in unison as they approached their youngest member.

Who rolled over onto his back and wiped at his eyes that were streaming tears.

"Oh my god," Jack breathed.

"Jack, are you ok?"

"Y-yeah," he croaked. He laughed himself hoarse.

Shadowy hands crept across Jack's cheeks and held there. The guardians tensed but Jack hummed at the comforting contact.

"What was that?" Bunny asked, all antagonism dropped in his concern.

"I'm…" Jack cracked open an eye and grinned. "I'm really ticklish."

Tinkling bell like chimes jingled behind them. Everyone turned and saw Sandy hovering over the table, a hand at his mouth, laughing.


	9. Lingerie

Renaissance Faire Au! ahahahahaha, what? i have no idea.

* * *

So...Jack's life hadn't quite taken the prestigious turn he hoped it would. It was rightfully completely unexpected how he came to end up here.

Not that he minded here.

It was just...a new learning curve.

Dropping out of highschool was the antipathy towards everything he knew. He looked back now and realized that he really did have a cookie cutter life. He was part of a family with 2.5 children, a mother, father...Now it was just Him, and Emma.

At least he still had Emma.

And now, now the two of them had a new family. It was still a bit rough and awkward, but they were good people. Jack thought that they could come to be close to them, the self dubbed 'Guardians' as they travelled, worked, and lived.

There was a lot to learn.

Moving every two months was also rough, especially for Emma, who still needed to get an education to someday take her GED. Jack's own GED was on hold, at least until he became part of the show and started earning his own tips to pack away in a savings account.

That's what Tooth advised him to do. The tips they made from their performances were basically free money, and whatever he could scrounge up in his own hat at the end of each show was completely tax free and could be gathered up and put in a savings account to gain interest and...well maybe by the time Emma was eighteen it could pay for her to go to college. Jack liked that goal. It was a good one, solid, hopeful.

And while he trained in acrobatics, fire breathing, and acting, he set aside time each morning to force Emma to stop her chores and sit with him for private tutoring. The internet was an amazing tool these days (these days? Kid, you're only seventeen!), and public libraries were usually accessible in whatever town they attended to for the current few months.

They were a travelling performance group doing the east coast renaissance faire circuit. They had a multitude of different performances to present at each faire and camped out on the grounds every week and worked from dawn till dusk every weekend.

North was a fire breather and did demonstrations three times a day, Bunny and Tooth were acrobats accomplishing amazing feats on rickety old stages, and Sandy was a puppet master of every kind puppet Jack had ever seen, entertaining the children with his stories and silent shadow shows alike.

North turned out to be a relative of Jack's mother, and after her death, he appeared at the funeral offering Emma and him a new way of life. The alternative was Emma getting placed in foster care and Jack being left to fend for himself; his birthday was too close to stay with his sister in a stranger's home.

Jack had obviously taken up North's offer immediately. If he could stay with Emma, then things would all work out.

That's how he came to travel and live with them, Emma by his side. She had taken to the change in environment like a fish to water. It was fascinating for her, and less than a month of adjustment saw her out in petticoats and bodices with a bucket or hat and racks of wildflower bouquets, selling them to couples who were gullible enough to her large doe eyes to drop cash on things she she picked for free from the fields.

It actually made Jack kind of jealous. She was being much more useful to their new family than he was.

And hey, he did a lot of sports in high school, even dancing when Emma had forced him to take her ballet classes with her. He could be an acrobat. Bunny even did firework himself and combined the two together to create a once-a-weekend spectacular with North.

So he had been training up, and taking advantage during the off weekdays to meet the other performers and faire workers to learn new skills.

They were all generally awesome people, if not a bit scary and intimidating. Getting drunk and partying was standard fare for every single one, and Jack couldn't say this was a deterrent.

He was getting good at fencing and other weapon play, horseback riding, a bit of jousting (but only with the White Knight, the Black Knight actor was a stiff asshole and always gave Jack these nasty looks from across the pitch), and there were these women who did a raunchy comedy act with water that had pulled him into their slippery routine a few times as well. This was much to the delight of the festival goers as his shirt was more often than not torn to shreds by the girls performing, showing off his steadily improving physique.

Tooth and Bunny were training him in balancing acts and lifting techniques, North helping him work up his heat resistance and tolerance of the accelerant they used to breathe fire (the stuff was noxious, holy shit), while Sandy actually sat down with his sister and himself for their tutoring classes. He taught them much more than Jack could have managed, while also teaching Jack the stories he told the children and the jokes he weaved into his comedic and bawdy adult shows as well.

Jack's own humor was invaluable. He learned as sexual inuendo and off color jokes were the funniest to people and earned him the most appreciation, which translated to better tips.

About a year after Emma and he joined them, North had declared Jack a 'Jack of All Trades' in training and fit to become a main part of their performances instead of just a side act.

Things were actually kind of great. This was exciting and never had Jack dreamed that people could actually live like this, but here he was, surviving with Emma, sleeping in tents, cooking around bonfires, and drinking with strangers like this had been his life from birth.

…

There were some drawbacks.

This type of work drew rather… eccentric personalities to it. And this was only speaking of the public festival goers. The actual performers who Jack lived with were a whole other story.

Jack was young, and he knew he was attractive, and playing upon his sex appeal was over half of his income. He tumbled topless for most shows, or wore ridiculous costumes for others. His learned jokes and demeanor promoted his sexuality and he often found himself… trailed by teenage girls and oggled by middle aged women, and even men as well.

Needless to say, Jack wouldn't have any problem getting as many partners as he wanted. Too bad he didn't want it. Emma was his main concern.

Even she found herself getting attention of this sort. It made Jack see red. She was barely twelve and disgusting performers hit on her between shows, stopped her to talk, to flirt, to play with the flowers in her hair. She cringed away from the other workers, but had developed her own routine in diverting attention with potential customers back to her flowers and buying them.

Jack was actually kind of proud of her bravery and strength in brushing off all of the unwanted advances. Being performers, he learned, was a job 'normal people' didn't respect. It made him respect the trustworthy friends he made even more.

The different travelling shows all seemed to know each other. They may circuit different routes, but it was a good chance Jack would encounter the saucy water wenches three times a year, the knife swallowers were certain to be down south, the fencers travelled a similar circuit to them as well as the rotten fruit comedy act and they all saw each other frequently.

Same with the Jousters. And The Black Knight. Unfortunately.

Speaking of trustworthy...Pitch Black, the villain, was someone who made the hair on the back of Jack's neck rise.

He was tall, with dark hair, dark skin, gleaming eyes. His aquiline nose was just the perfect vulture's beak to stare down at the unworthy with. He made good use of that, glaring away potential fans and fellow performers alike. Jack didn't like him. Not many people did.

Tooth said he was dangerous. Bunny just glared when asked about him, and North changed subject.

Sandy was the only one to seem remotely willing to discuss him, and all Jack could get out of him was that he was actually English instead of just using a fake accent like the rest of them, and that he had been in the business for as long as any of them but made little friends. The jousters kept to themselves a lot in general, they found work outside of ren faires and oftentimes didn't travel in lieu of being part of local stables.

Pitch was a drifter like the rest of them, every faire needed a good villain after all, and he embodied the role exquisitely.

Jack told Emma to stay away from him.

And guess what she did?

The exact opposite. And, Jack only found out after he started seeing Pitch wearing a red yarrow flower crown during his performances! Emma had a veritable monopoly on wildflower bouquets at the Burgess Renaissance Faire this year, it couldn't be anyone else who found such deep blood red flowers. They...suited him.

That wasn't the point!

Jack was livid!

He'd put a stop to this before it got dangerous.

"Pitch!" Jack stomped into the horse stables between their performances on a Sunday. He was in his blue leathers, sweaty after an acrobatics show with Tooth and Bunny.

Pitch was dripping from his own black riding armor in the summer heat. He turned and leaned against a wooden beam crossing his arms over his chest.

"If it isn't the wee Guardian," he commented, doing that look down his nose that Jack just hated.

"You stay away from Emma," Jack demanded.

"Why?"

"Wh-" Jack's face fell...he uh, didn't have a good civil way of saying 'because you creep me out and I don't want you near my sister'.

"Can't let the villain near your precious princess, Jack?" Pitch questioned, a wry smile on his lips. "I'm not actually evil, you know."

"I-I know that! Just...I don't want you near her."

"Or else what?"

"That is super creepy! You aren't gaining my confidence you're not some pedo here!"

Pitch's face fell. "Frost, please. Give me a little more credit. She has merely an interest in the horses, and I suspect some kind of misguided saint syndrome wanting to redeem the villain that rides them. She said she wants to be the first princess to joust for her own honor, and that I should teach her how to ride."

"I can teach her how to ride if she wants it," Jack ground out.

"With what horse?"

"Uh…." Jack stammered then, looked sheepishly up at Pitch through his eyelashes. The guy got him on the back foot so damn fast it was almost unnerving.

"Exactly. I am willing to instruct her, she seems very determined, and we do follow a close fair loop, she can become familiar with Onyx that way. You can observe since you don't seem to trust me an iota."

Jack nodded. What had his sister gotten them into?

…

Pitch was awful. He set up a strict regimen with Emma that firstly interfered with their tutoring times every morning. It was also at the buttcrack of dawn. Emma's eagerness and insistence adapted their weekly routine. They were at the stables and on the Jousting Pitch at 6:30am every weekday morning.

Jack had to forgo all nightly drinking and partying to wake up enough to keep a good eye on his sister. No wonder Pitch was never seen around the campfire. He was a goddamn stiff.

…

Maybe he wasn't so bad… Emma was catching on quickly. They had covered all the basics that Jack had taken a month to learn in only three weeks.

Emma laughed almost constantly. Jack couldn't hear what they were joking about as he sat on the arena fencing with his toast and coffee. Sometimes he caught Pitch smiling though. That was weird.

…

Shit. Emma was getting better than he was! Jack couldn't have that. He began to sit closer to eavesdrop, and after a week of that useless plan he hopped into the mulch and listened a few yards behind the pair.

That was soon not enough either, and as Emma began to catch rings on her broom handle lance, Jack had to go to the White Knight to bribe him to borrow his horse in the mornings to train as well.

Manny, the White Knight, agreed on the condition that Jack would go around the festival every half hour before the jousting matches promoting him and gathering onlookers.

Pitch got wind of that and became smug and almost ignored Jack during their morning lessons until Emma kicked the guy in the shins. Pitch compromised with Jack agreeing that it was fair if Jack shouted Manny's praises, and whispered Pitch's.

…

Ok, fine. With begrudging acceptance, Jack had to say Pitch was kind of cool. The whole aloofness was him not quite knowing how to _not_ be a villain. He was naturally reticent, and his appearance (they called him the 'Maddened Moor' sometimes as per period fashion) did a lot to hinder any relationship building.

He started to show up on the Friday night bonfires as per Emma's insistence (since they didn't have lessons on Saturday morning, so it was kind of like sleeping in), and the other Guardians didn't seem to think too terribly of the change. Bunny was always incorrigible though, no helping that.

And once you got some beer in him and found a topic he knew something about, the guy was a veritable wealth of stories. Horses, horse riding, racing, history, fashion history ("Really? Cool!" Emma practically shrieked), astrology and astronomy… He actually was really smart.

Jack didn't want to admit that he had been just as biased as everyone else with no basis.

…

Then, things really changed.

It was maybe the worst situation Jack had found himself in since starting his new life here two years ago.

The Water Wenches somehow convinced him to do and end of the festival special performance with him. They dressed him up in a waspie corset and frilly bloomers, put makeup on his face and tied his unruly hair up in ribbons. He looked ridiculous. That was the point.

They then proceeded to do slippery acrobatics with soap and soggy clothing and raunchy jokes and even raunchier gestures. Jack was dunked into the pool at least 15 times, he was dripping and the makeup ran in morbid streaks down his face. It was hilarious, and actually really fun.

Emma even came and participated a little bit by throwing a flower necklace over Jack's head to complete the image.

Jack bowed with the wenches at the end of the show and slipped right off the stage. Everyone laughed. Emma took up the wash basin for tips and gathered the generous amounts of money. Jack joined her and gave her a dripping bear hug and she was shrieking laughter.

The outdoor theater cleared out of patrons, the wenches left Jack and Emma as they went to find dry clothing.

"You were amazing!" Emma laughed.

"No I didn't do anything, I just flailed around looking pretty."

"You look like a drag queen." She prodded him in the stomach.

"Thats the point, I think. Look at all the money we made though."

"You made."

"You helped! the flowers are lovely by the way, they smell great."

"Thanks."

"Hey blondie!" a group of drunk guys who hadn't left yet shouted over at Jack.

"It's white actually!" Jack called back, laughing, still high on adrenaline.

"Give us a SHOOOOOW!" they shouted, then started jeering and cat calling. Jack took it in stride, this wasn't too uncommon at the fair, they did serve beer and mead here, after all.

"Come back next summer, guys! I'll be sure to entertain," Jack winked.

Wrong move.

The four guys approached, Jack slid in front of Emma, shielding her with the wash basin of tips.

"How bout you entertain us now, hm?" Oh they were really drunk. Sleazy too. Ugh.

"Yeah, that show was super PG-13, when is the adults only version?"

"I think I hear our mother calling," Jack said, It was a code sentence to tell Emma to scram. She hesitated. "Have a good rest of the day, Sirs." Jack took a step back.

"Now now, don't be frigid. Where did all of your humor go? We're only joking."

"Emma." Jack turned to his sister, her eyes were wide. She was scared, she never really saw Jack deal with drunks before, and he was in a really vulnerable looking outfit. Jack glared, she got the idea and beelined out of the amphitheater.

One of the guys, in a t-shirt with printed chainmail on it, laughed. "It's adult time now, hm?"

"I'd really appreciate it if you'd guys go back to the main festival, I have to clean up now." Jack said, dropping his bad english accent as he moved back towards the stage.

"Keep us company, cutie! You were really something up there! What other ways can you bend?" One of them called out, and then grabbed Jack by the shoulder.

Quickly, Jack shrugged out of the grip, spun around and slapped his hand back. "You aren't allowed to touch the performers, Sir."

"Ow! Asshole!" The man overreacted and lunged at Jack. Jack jumped back, and hopped up onto one of the benches. "He hit me!"

The man's three friends then came at Jack, apparently all of them taking the slap way more serious than it was. Jack jumped back a few more benches as they stumbled and fell , knocking some of the benches over, oh geez. That just made them angrier, making fools of themselves like that.

One shouted and ran at Jack in the aisle.

"Help! Fire! FIRE!" Emma's voice screamed from the top of the seats.

"Emma! You little idiot! Go get North!" Jack shouted back at her just as two of the guys stopped stunned and looked around like there might have been a real fire. There wasn't. They made the connection that the little girl was also somehow an enemy and made up the stairs for her. She darted at that.

"What! You gonna let a kid beat you?" Jack called to them to get their attention. It was a poor move, but he didn't want them going after his sister. His distraction gave one of the guys an opportunity to grab at his bare ankle and yank him off the bench.

Jack went tumbling, hitting his back across the bench then rolling to floor; he was nearly winded from his fall. That didn't stop the drunkard from grabbing Jack by the neck and picking him back up. Jack choked and scrabbled at the guy's wrist, but his friend came in quickly and punched him in the stomach. The blow knocked Jack from the hand on his neck and he fell back to the ground, coughing and wheezing for breath. He was definitely winded now.

A foot came and kicked his shoulder back, and he was face up on the ground. Another foot came down and pinned him at his chest. Jack twisted to the side and toppled the guy across the benches. He was too drunk to get up, but there were three others and another kick to the stomach had Jack retching, unable to inhale.

A fist grabbed his hair and yanked him back up, a punch to his eye sent him back down. Shit. He crumpled dazed and waited for the next assault. Muddled shouting overwhelmed his ringing ears but no further blows came.

Dark, hot hands pressed to his face and tapped at his cheek. He groaned, they burned. The hands left, Jack didn't know if he was safe yet, he stayed curled up between the benches.

"-ou idiot-!" He couldn't really pay attention to the words. "Has all of the ale rotted your brain?! You let him dress like _this_ and left him alone?! Shut up Nikolas-"

Arms wrapped around him and he was lifted from the ground. Where was North? One of Jack's eyes was swollen shut, he cracked open the other one. Oh, there he was. He tilted his head and saw he was held by a shadow.

" 'sss Emm?" Jack slurred.

"She's with Tooth, Jack. She's fine."

" 'ss good." Jack mumbled.

"I'm taking him to the stables, it's quiet there, I have a bed there."

Jack could hear North protest.

"Stables r'gud," Jack mumbled.

"North, go kick these hooligans out, I have Jack."

…

Jack didn't sleep per say. He was conscious for the carried trip to the stables, he knew Pitch had him, he appreciated it. Pitch exuded confidence, having him take care of Jack felt… safe, somehow.

He sighed as he was able to stretch out on Pitch's cot, but the relief was short lived as he was rolled over. He winced and Pitch shushed him gently. He left Jack on his side, unlaced the corset from his waist and removed it.

A displeased tsk sounded as Jack was rolled back onto his back.

"That looks bad, You might broken a rib," Pitch commented. "Why weren't you wearing a steel corset?"

"Can't tumble in steel." Jack muttered and pressed his arm over his eye.

Pitch gently pulled it away and replaced his arm with an ice pack. "I can't tell what is your black eye and what is all this garish makeup."

Jack couldn't help but grin. "Thanks for coming… when you did."

"Emma came crying to me." Pitch said quietly as he sat by Jack's bed. It really was quieter in the stables, Jack could barely hear the festival.

"Is she-?"

"Yeah, she's fine. She'll be over later, I asked Tooth to calm her down first."

"Ok…" Jack mumbled "I… All I could do was… get her away. I should've been able to-" Jack exhaled a huge breath and shuddered.

"No, shh. There were four of them. They were drunk and wild and huge. You're only nineteen and I don't know how you do half the things you do, you're so thin. You did good. They were already half beaten when I showed up."

"The benches did all the work." Jack smiled slightly but still found he couldn't stop shivering. "M'not cold…"

"It's shock. But, here." Pitch pulled a blanket up and over Jack.

"It hurts."

"I know. We'll wrap you up and I'll get some painkillers from a Weird Sister. You'll have a hard time getting the herbalists to leave you alone after this. They'll want to ply you with every known magical healing tea they know."

Jack laughed then grimaced. "That hurts too," he groaned, upset.

"Yeah, you'll have to refrain from acrobatics for a month or so. Good thing this festival is over."

"Are you… Are you coming up to Vermont for their Faire?" Jack asked, his voice small, hopeful.

"Do you want me to?"

"Yeah."

"Then I can do that."

Jack sighed and smiled as he felt fingers card through his hair. They gently undid the bows and braids, combed out the knots. Jack let Pitch clean him up, weirdly comfortable and actually kind of pleased. This was nice.

A cloth came and wiped the lipstick from his lips and cheeks (the Wenches put many slobbery smooches all over his face from the show). The cloth wiped away the black mascara and liner from his uninjured eye and left his bruised one alone. Jack was appreciative, he'd clean it later, when it hurt less.

"Get some rest before everyone shows up and makes a fuss over you," Pitch said. "You can change into a pair of my pants when you want, so you don't have to go around in just bloomers."

"Mmkay. Thanks, Pitch."

"Think nothing of it."

"M'glad you're my friend. I like you," Jack mumbled as he fell asleep.

"Me too."


	10. Heat of the Moment

Blind!Jack au! With his pal, Deaf Sandy :D

* * *

He had gone blind at a youngish age, thank the lord. At around eleven when he couldn't be too upset by it and still had enough childhood capacity to relearn how to live. That capacity quickly evaporated after that.

He had to work so hard to find a future afterwards, his teen years weren't much fun, he didn't have very many friends. He lost his old ones, but did eventually find some new ones. Sandy was one of those friends, a deaf kid in the same special ed class that Jack was forced into because of his disability.

For months the two of them sat in their own worlds, unable to fathom the other. Sandy could see Jack talk, but not hear his words, Jack could… do nothing. He was so dependent upon his hearing that a silent friend was nearly impossible.

That was, until Sandy began to teach him how to sign language in the palm of his hand. It opened them up to each other, let them into their very exclusive worlds. And once Jack had become fluent (he was determined), the pair became inseparable.

And they dreamed big.

Sandy's form of communication gave Jack ideas. Jack's lack gave Sandy his own. And their combined disabilities were a practical cash cow for donation money and charities. Call it crass but what were said charities for the disabled for if not to promote health and well being towards the people they were created to support?

Ok, fine, that was a bit cynical.

In high school the pair took to their passions and would not be deterred. Jack had wanted to be an artist since he was young, since he could see, and now that color was a commodity unavailable to him he did the next best thing: sculpture. All of the adults in his life loved the idea, supported him and he felt good and useful because of it, so he practiced until he became good, at least until he thought he was good, he wouldn't ever know completely, but the things he created felt right.

Sandy wanted music. He wanted access to what he never had, and he read online that other deaf artists created sound through vibrations. So he did as well. The pair functioned where the other could not and by the time both of them were twenty-five, they shared a home outside Chicago that doubled as their studios. Jack had become well known by then, having won high school scholarships and artistic contests. He had gallery shows and a personal assistant that helped him with his growing business.

Sandy had two CD's out and, while not quite as successful as Jack (being a blind visual artist), he did have a really awesome internet fanbase that sent many of his remixes viral.

Things were pretty awesome. Jack had never fathomed he'd be happy when he was a teenager. Actually happy, and not like, a stiff upper lip, smiling through suffering. There was that of course, that was inevitable, but he had made a life for himself, by twenty five, and that was more than a lot of able bodied people could say.

Ah, but sometimes he spoke too soon.

His assistant had booked the both of them a joint gallery show. It had to be a specialized place because Jack had crafted a piece to react to the vibrations of sound Sandy produced. It'd been done before, sure, but he hoped their take on the moving sound sculpture would capture the eye.

Jack's idea involved different sound vignettes, pedestal speakers pointed up with sand or water on top. The moving sand had a base of various foam crafted relief images that would direct the sand into various designs as it bounced from the sound. The water was a simple pool over a few speakers to reflect waves.

They were to install in this coffee shop gallery. Tooth described the place as a mix between a museum, a book store, a starbucks, and a theater. Jack thought it sounded gaudy, Sandy said he saw it and it was more like the owner couldn't decide what he wanted to do with his life.

Jack laughed.

This would be interesting.

They began their setup the following week. Jack followed Sandy to the shop in question and sat at a table with his laptop to give verbal instructions to the college art students their assistant, Tooth, hired to help install. Sandy oversaw things and relayed to Jack about every hour the progress.

The kids and them had lunch together, and while they were eating Jack heard from the kitchen:

"This looks ridiculous and it's taking up too much space!"

The college students quietened to listen with Jack.

"Shut up, Pitch." The other voice sounded eerily similar to the first. "It's called art, its interesting, and it's for a good cause."

"To what? Hamper our business and play nice with children?"

"I'm blind, not deaf, you know!" Jack shouted from their table. Jamie, one of the kids with them laughed under his breath.

There was a sharp clatter and another resounding chuckle from the Kitchen. Sandy pressed his hand into Jack's. Jack signed what was said, he could tell Sandy was frowning.

Jack heard the door swing open, and Sandy signed that the owner came out of the kitchen, followed by his brother, the other owner. He silently described to Jack their physical description, saying they were twins, of middle eastern descent, one, Koz, was broader shouldered and more muscular, the other, Pitch, was lean and slight, they were both tall, with black hair. Koz wore a button down black dress shirt with dark gray slacks, while Pitch had on a black sweater and black jeans.

Jack listened as he heard hard soled shoes approach them, and soft soled ones behind them, he could tell their positions from it, and deducted who was the offensive one by the fact that they, Pitch, hid behind Koz to an extent.

"Apologies." Koz, in front said. Jack just reconfirmed that Koz was the politer of the two.

"Dunno if it's accepted," Jack retorted. "Sandy's the deaf one, and he heard it all regardless. Pitch is quite loud."

Pitch sputtered behind Koz.

"We don't have to have our installation in this gallery, though the facility is the most accommodating to the pieces. We wouldn't want to impose."

"No, no," Koz said, backtracking a bit at Jack's brashness. Good. "Pitch was just upset that the sound pieces would be interfering with his open mic night every Friday, and then quiet reading hours during the week."

"Oh, So thats why this place is an explosion of indecision?"

Koz coughed. "Er…"

" I do Literature and Theater, Koz takes care of the food and has an eye for artwork and antiques. Is there something wrong with that, Mr. Frost?" Pitch barked back.

"No, no." Jack mimicked Koz' words from a moment ago. "It just feels shitty to have someone flippantly disregard your livelihood so easily, you know?"

Koz laughed.

"Well met, Mr. Frost. Pitch, apologize to them."

"...Sorry."

"Accepted. And don't be too worried. The sound can be turned off for open mic night, and the music Sandy has crafted is lovely, I do not think it will interfere with reading too terribly. It's only for two months, I think you will like it."

…

They didn't have any more qualms with the brothers after that. The pieces were successfully put up the next day and Sandy and Jack worked to adjust positions and levels.

Sandy mentioned Pitch hovering around the edges of the store, and Jack smiled. Sandy said he didn't look displeased.

Koz occasionally came and brought coffee with him for a short break. Things turned pleasant rather quickly. Obviously it wouldn't behoove either parties to remain antagonistic when they'd be devoting so much time together.

With everything set in order, Sandy and Jack left and didn't make a habit of stopping by everyday anymore.

Jack still found himself there most afternoons though. He took his laptop with him and sat in a corner to type.

One day, Pitch approached.

"What do you write? You obviously can't read it."

Jack grinned. "No, I can't. It's mostly personal thoughts and observations, memories and interpretations of what i imagine things to look like."

"Why?" Jack heard Pitch pull out the adjacent chair and then felt the table rattle a little as he sat down.

"Sandy likes to post them online in a blog for me. I apparently have over eight-thousand followers or something. And…" Jack paused a moment. "And, it feels good to have my fingers moving, doing something i know i can accomplish on my own."

"Oh." Pitch mumbled. Jack heard him slide something across the table. "Here's the two braille books I own. 20,000 Leagues under the Sea and Gulliver's Travels."

Jack smiled and placed a hand on thick covers. "That's thoughtful of you," he said. He heard Pitch shift uncomfortably.

"I do like your artwork."

Jack laughed. "I thought you would. These ones are a bit different from my norm though. I really like doing human figures more."

This was a surprisingly easy conversation. Jack was pleased. Most people didn't know what to say to him. He could tell Pitch was awkward, but he also knew that Pitch had been hanging around and watching him. Jack had made it a game to sharply turn his head in the direction of certain cuing sounds he knew Pitch made. Often times he was rewarded with the thump of a dropped book or a clatter of shoes on wood as the man retreated, thinking himself discovered.

"You seem pretty well known in town, have I seen any of your humans?" Pitch asked abruptly. Jack fancied there was a blush on his dark skin.

"Maybe. There is a cast piece outside of the Children's Museum I won an award for in high school."

"Oh."

"Can I touch your face?"

"What?"

Jack snapped his mouth shut, his teeth clicking. Shit. He didn't mean to say that. Yeah, okay, he'd been thinking he'd like to see Pitch's face for a while now, Koz' too, to see the differences. To find out how exactly they were different, to feel how their bodies varied from each other how Koz' voice was a bit deeper in a chest that was bigger. Sandy said they had beaks for noses and cheekbones that could cut glass. Jack gathered that his friend already had a crush on Kozmotis (his full name, Sandy told him). He wanted to see what Sandy had described. He just didn't. Shit.

"Sorry, nevermind."

"Uh…"

"It's cliche, I know. Blind people seeing with their hands and whatever. But it's true too, and I'm a sculptor so like...thats how I work. It's weird, I know it's not a socially acceptable thing. I didn't mean to blurt it out." Jack could feel his cheeks burning.

"No uh..." Pitch floundered a bit. Jack wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He was too sprawled out on the table to adequately just stand up and run. He wished he could. "It is cliche."

"I know. Shut up. Forget I said it."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-five. Why. How old are you?"

"You look barely legal. I'm thirty-three."

"I've been told I could be a model." Jack quipped, finding an iota of humor in this whole debacle.

"I think you could." Pitch muttered.

"Hm?" Jack asked, but he heard him quite well. Good thing his blush hadn't disappeared yet, because it'd be right back by now.

"Nothing. I said I usually wait till the third date to start touching, but…"

"So is this a date?"

"Do you want it to be?"

"That's sly and manipulative. But yeah, that would be nice." Jack grinned.

"Ok. You can touch my face if you want."

"Can I sculpt it too?"

"Uh… That's 5th date material there."

"I look forward to that date, then."


	11. Such a Tease

A continuation of the Lingerie Chapter (Ch. 9)'s au! The Renaissance Faire! pretty much picks up where we left off :D. Please enjoy! Lemme know what you think?

* * *

Jack sighed as he mucked out the horse barn on the freshly occupied Vermont fairgrounds. The last people to use them left them a mess. Jack had volunteered to help the jousters and horse-crobats out, not only because he was still recovering from his broken ribs and was unable to tumble, but also because it gave him time with Emma and consequently Pitch.

After the fight and some rest, just as Pitch had predicted, Emma came barging into the stables with all of the Guardians in tow, along with just about half of the performers and vendors. It was chaos as they all tried to help Jack, congratulate Jack, and scold Jack for being so reckless all at once. Needless to say, Pitch then proceeded to display exemplary villain behavior to scare them off and get the two of them some quiet.

Jack was starting to appreciate the quiet moments he could find amongst so much activity.

After that, everyone packed up their stuff and went their ways for the next gig. Pitch had to leave fairly quickly after the faire and packed up all of his equipment and horse to travel (it would take him a bit longer since he had to accommodate Onyx), so he reassured Jack that they'd meet up again up north in a few weeks.

It worked out well for Jack that he was injured at the end of the faire, because it let him escape most of his chores. Emma, however, wrote him an extensive contract with exorbitant interest rates for him to pay her back in chore duty because she was forced to cover most of his.

That led to them going up north to Vermont, and Jack shoveling shit while Emma kicked her legs back and forth sitting on a wall watching. Pitch was outside giving Onyx a brush down and things were really pleasant. Peaceful, it felt natural and sort of like… like Jack had found where he belonged. Weird though, he felt like he should have more ambition.

Well, he did have goals. Emma had a great plan and Jack was all for it, now.

It was operation 'Get Pitch Friends'.

Jack wondered how the guy even booked jobs with how antisocial he was. More than half of their business came from friendly connections and word-of-mouth recommendations. Jack would help Pitch out whether he liked it or not. Just by virtue of being the newest Guardian and also an awesome person had Jack in good graces with many other acts and vendors.

And he quietly thanked his mother about once a week for raising them with all the effort that she did. It was sometimes surprising to Jack that common courtesy gestures that were normal for their family were more scarce in this new world. Kindness was rewarded with kindness, and favors were always repaid. It was strange to him how Emma's and his generosity with their time and attention was so well received. The two of them could use that (and they had before, it was no wonder that Emma had climbed on top of the flower girl game as easily as she had) for Pitch as well.

Maybe it was a little naïve, but it was most certainly fun.

Step one was befriending Pitch. Almost check. Emma was practically his shadow. Her mere presence lightened the atmosphere around the guy.

Jack hadn't seen much of him since he was beat up, but now they were back on the same grounds for the next two months.

"Hey Pitch!" Jack put down his rake and went outside.

"Hm?" Pitch called back and stood up from the other side of Onyx, brush in hand.

"Is it alright if Emma and I keep coming in the mornings to ride?"

"Yeah! Is it? I want to start on chopping vegetables with a sword while galloping!"

Pitch smiled wryly, "Have you even had sword training, Ems?" Pitch asked.

"Uh…yeah."

"Wow, Em, that was really convincing," Jack laughed.

"Can you teach me fencing too then?" She was way too eager.

"You use a broadsword to cut vegetables, no fencing involved."

"Yeah, Em, I don't think you're strong enough for that yet, its all one handed."

"I'm strong enough to catch rings with a lance!" She huffed and grumbled.

"It's a bit different, but we can sword fight if you want." Pitch said as he began to brush Onyx's back again. "Have you finished the stables yet?"

"Nope! Jack is slacking!" Emma sing-songed as she skipped to the side, anticipating Jack's cuff to the head and dodging it. "And thanks, Pitch! We'll be there bright and early! But you should definitely come to the bonfire tonight! North convinced the brewers here to crack open some of their meade for good festival luck!"

And Emma skipped off, giving Jack a pointed look that said 'you best get him there', Jack nodded and smiled.

He then grabbed his rake again. "It really does mean a lot, Pitch, that you are helping us out like this. I don't know if I can repay you, but I'm more than happy to do whatever I can…for you...that is."

Pitch smiled a crooked thing, and Jack felt his cheeks heat up, god that was lame and embarrassing, could he sound any more childish?

"I'm sure we can come to some agreement." Pitch replied and raised an eyebrow noting Jack's blush and then smiling wider. He stood up and crossed over to Jack. "Don't know what all you have to offer though, Jack," and Pitch gave Jack a once over look like he was appraising him.

Jack stepped back and frowned. "Don't tease me, Pitch. I was serious, it really is generous of you humor Emma like you do."

"It's not distasteful. She reminds me of my daughter."

Jack's frown disappeared for a curious look. "You have a daughter?"

Pitch rolled his eyes and then stepped back to Onyx, Jack having completely ruined whatever mood had fallen between them. "Yeah, She's almost grown now, just a little younger than you."

Jack felt a curl of upset in his stomach. "So that means you have a wife too?"

"No, we never married, and she moved on taking Sera with her years ago. But, these questions are better suited for another time, and you are accruing interest I think?"

"Shit. Yeah. Another time. Oh, but we're making you come to the party tonight, no backing out. I can at least repay you in fun!"

…

And the bonfire was awesome!

Somehow or other, after the fight, Pitch and North started to talk more. North was practically bouncing with excitement when he saw Emma drag him by the hand into the firelight. He stuffed a goblet of meade into his hand, clapped him on the back and immediately pulled him into conversation with a group of reenactors.

Jack and Emma stood back grinning. All according to plan.

…

Things were going great. Jack found Pitch by his side more often as Jack was relegated to menial tasks because of his injury. The Dark Knight was gaining a reputation unbecoming of a villain as he was often caught red-handed with the flower girl, selling roses, or with that miscreant white-haired kid as he cried advertisements for the joust.

Sometimes, onlookers cheered for his colors as he rode.

…

Jack was beginning to think the plan sucked.

They were a month into the fair, Emma and he were with Pitch learning sword work and horse skills most mornings during the week, and it was great for a while.

Super great.

Worryingly great.

Then things went south. Like, not really. It was just Jack. He was the one with the problem. It started subtly. Emma kept making Pitch join them for dinner with the family or for nightcaps with other performers, and at first Pitch was really hesitant and wary. But then, he began to make friends. Other people had similar interests to his, and they began to talk, and soon Emma wasn't forcing him to come but he was coming willingly and often times showing up early, maybe with a bottle of wine in hand.

A lot of the things Pitch and the others talked about became very uninteresting for Jack. He didn't like seeing Pitch becoming so close with others. Pitch was his friend first. They were… stealing him.

Woah.

Ok, shit. The jealousy was new.

Jack was an observer in his own mind as he watched it fester and grow, and sometimes the beast was quelled when Pitch looked up from his mug and made eye contact with Jack. Sometimes he tamed it with a hair ruffle when he passed Jack during the day or a shoulder nudge as they sat beside each other at dinner.

It was never so quiet as when they actually talked, and especially during their morning lessons.

But it was almost unbearable, Pitch was teasing him, Jack was sure of it! Sometimes he'd appear out of thin air and kick at Jack's bare heels as he walked, trying to trip him up, or he'd accidentally shoulder him as he passed with buckets of water. Jack always lost then as his retaliations always ended up with him soaked somehow. Pitch just laughed, and his laughter was like bells, Jack was torn up over whether he loved it or hated it because it was always on his expense.

Then the monster raged on the day Pitch cancelled their lessons. He cancelled them because Manny wanted to discuss a new script and rehearsal regimen. It was reasonable, it was normal even! But Jack couldn't be contained and he fought with Emma and stomped off in a huff.

Fuck.

And then the alone time was so not the right thing to do. It made him have to sit with himself and stew over his idiocy. Stupid jealousy. Stupid Pitch. He should be happy Pitch is being included and wanting to be there and having a better time and smiling more.

But then, Jack couldn't help but start to question all the why's of his behavior and what was wrong with him anyways, there was no need to yell at Emma just because he was mad that Pitch didn't want to spend time with him…oh. Oh crap.

Did he? Fuck. He did. When the hell did he start to like Pitch? Like _like_ Pitch, and not just Like him. He was…He was old! Ok well not that old, like what Thirty-eight or something. That's still damn old. He couldn't possibly like Pitch! He was almost twice as old as he was for crying out loud!

Fuck everything.

Once the very idea of it occurred to him, Jack couldn't deny it. He started to see it everywhere, it was like some creeping disease. Jack had never had a crush on anyone before really, besides celebrities or stuff like that, but this sort of felt the same. Worse. It felt worse.

He knew how inappropriate this was.

The looks that once subdued his jealousy turned into surprise attacks to his heart. He couldn't even remain angry at Pitch for ditching their morning lessons one day a week because he could barely bring himself to be around the guy for more than a few minutes.

Emma noticed too. She didn't quite understand why Jack was being so weird but she knew something was up.

...

She became concerned though because it was disrupting their everyday routine.

The three of them were out in the jousting ring, forgoing horse training for the morning for broadsword work. Emma was up with Pitch and Jack was standing off to the side, leaning on his sword, concertedly not watching them.

He was being ridiculous and he knew it, but he just couldn't figure out how to act normally anymore. He was certain Pitch had noticed his oddness, and blushed involuntarily because he couldn't help that either. All he could do was not watch them and think of things like North taking a bath or Bunny shaving his chest to stop himself from staring at Pitch's perfect form and stance.

"Jack! Your turn," Pitch called.

Jack stumbled and stuttered as he approached. "I-I...don't feel up to it today," he replied lamely.

"You're not some fainting virgin here, Jack. Step up," Pitch joked as he took his stance.

But instead of Jack taking the bait and going for the guy as he normally would, his face flushed and his mouth fell open. He gaped at Pitch for a second completely caught off guard not registering the insult as a light hearted tease. Virgin. Oh god. He was a virgin, wasn't he. Thats what he was. Some wet behind the ear kid with no experience and no value or attractiveness to his name.

He had fallen head over heels for this crush as soon as he acknowledged the mere word of it and good god, he was a virgin and already nineteen and Pitch was old, and Emma was _right there_. Emma was right there and was watching Jack like he had grown an extra head and she heard him called a _virgin_ and it was true and he was a disgrace.

His embarrassment overwhelmed just about any rationality left to him and his sword fell from his fingers and he ran away with no other comment or action, just straight up bolted.


	12. Half Clothed

A new au! Lifeguard Kozmotis at the beach! :

* * *

Lifeguarding was a noble profession. Kozmotis literally held the power over life and death in his hand and the people were grateful for his services against the evils of the world. He was a Guardian of Life and none could tell him differently.

And during the week he was also an EMT.

Too bad, most days at the beach were incredibly boring, and no matter how he spun it, most of his duties relegated to answering the questions of senior citizens and fishing kids out from the tide.

Today was especially boring.

He was mostly working on his tan, not that having dark skin did him any favors in that department, he was already as tan as he would get for the summer, his skin a rich golden brown. It was a perk that his job had him in nothing but swim shorts, so his tan lines were minimal.

He was sitting with his binoculars up and scanning the waves, when out of the corner of his eye a flash of white caught his attention. Koz pulled his eyes from the ocean and glanced down to watch a colorful woman force a giant sun hat onto the head of some scrawny guy. Koz wasn't sure, but he thought the kid had white hair. He wasn't wrinkled or hunched over like an old man, though, so Koz found he was intrigued.

He watched them for a while longer as they were joined by three other men and set up a large umbrella and towels in the sand. The kid with the hat on sat under the shade and the woman spread thick sunscreen on his back. He was incredibly pale. Then, he removed his hat, presumably since he was in the shade, and Koz saw his hair was actually pristine white. An albino at the beach. Interesting.

Then an old man knocked his parasol on Koz's stand and drew his attention away with a question. He sighed and refocused his attention as he climbed down to address the man; at least talking wasn't boring.

…

About an hour later, after Koz went on a jog down the bay and back to keep an eye out, he climbed back up his perch and settled in for another few hours of observation.

Glancing over, he saw the albino kid sitting under the umbrella, tapping a foot in an impatient manner. He wasn't too far away and Koz could make out his features without his binoculars (using them to look at something other than the water was uncouth anyways). The kid was.. .well rather attractive, for having the whitest (almost pink) skin he had ever seen. It was sickly looking, and completely foreign for a beach setting, but it suited him. His hair was a wind swept mop of snow, it reminded Koz of the ski patrol he travelled to join during the winter, when the beaches were closed. Just looking at the boy made him feel blessedly cooler. But, he looked bored. He must be, having to endure an afternoon under an umbrella like he was.

…

The next time he looked over, the kid was gone from his umbrella. Koz glanced around, a bit disappointed that he was gone, but then caught a glare of white being dragged towards the water by one of the other guys that joined up with them. He was tall and tanned and buff, looked rugged with matching tattoos on each upper arm. The kid was putting up a struggle, but the second man, even larger than rugged guy, came up and patted the kid on the shoulder and helped to nudge him towards the water.

They were going slow, and the albino kid was putting up a fight, but ultimately letting them pull him closer. It was a strange situation to say the least, and as Koz watched they inched closer and closer to the water.

They were at the edge of the waves, both larger men flanking the kid, when he dug his heels into the sand to halt them. The three of them began an animated conversation at the kid's stubbornness and Koz watched as the larger of his two companions tried to coax him into the water.

Things clicked into place in Koz's mind at lightning speed, and he was already jumping off of his perch when the rugged guy, who shifted from mild annoyance to action, forcibly picked the albino kid up by the armpits and hoisted him into the waves.

The shriek could probably be heard on the next bay over and Koz sprinted down to the trio just as the woman and fifth man turned in surprise, back up at the umbrella they occupied.

"Hey!" he shouted at them, and the two men turned towards him in surprise. This meant they completely disregarded the white haired kid who tripped and fell in the force of the wave that hit him right in the chest and barrelled over him sending him under. Koz shoved them aside and stomped into the water to see his target resurface and flail panicked in the shallows with another shout as a second wave sent him under again.

Before any of the party that was with the kid could get a word in, Koz had him in his arms, lifted clean out of the water, and was stalking back up the beach. He brushed past the four others and went straight for their towels and umbrella. The kid in his arms was coughing and trembling and crying, almost unable to catch his breath. Koz knew a panic attack when he saw one. He only wished he could have deduced that asshole's intention before he went and threw the poor kid head first into the ocean.

He knelt and put the boy down, he was slight and light weight but he wasn't really...a kid, he was more late teens, but the sniffing and hiccuping did little to enhance his age. He then made to move away, but the boy's arm shot out and gripped his wrist.

"Shh, you're safe now. Nowhere near the ocean, or the water."

"D-drowni-" He coughed and sputtered, Koz reached up and smoothed his wet hair back.

"No one is drowning," Koz replied, and the boy looked up at him with wide eyes. He had the bluest irises Koz had ever seen, only enhanced by the redness surrounding them. "Can you tell me your name?" Koz then prompted

"J-Jack," the boy replied.

"And your age?"

"Eighteen." He was sounding more sure with something else to focus on.

"How about your friends, what are their names?"

"Tooth is the girl, Sandy is the short guy, North is the really big guy, and Bunny is-"

"Is the asshole that threw you into the ocean," Koz finished.

Jack grinned at that, a watery sort of smile. "Yeah. He's always an asshole."

And with that the four of them approached the umbrella, Bunny, the rugged guy, sporting a bright red hand mark across his cheek. Koz inwardly smiled.

He turned back to Jack and continued, noticing his shivering was almost gone. "And you're albino?"

"Uh...yeah." Jack nodded and looked down at his lap, at his sandy swim trunks.

"All this sun must not be good."

"Tooth bought me SPF 100." Jack said as he hugged his arms in front of himself.

"Are you guys on vacation?"

"S-sort of?" Jack hesitated.

"Sort of?" Koz prompted.

"We're supposed to be gettin' the little idiot over his water phobia! Can't do a thing if he keeps panicking," Bunny finally chimed in, quite obviously hiding his guilt and remorse under excessive attitude.

Koz stood and faced him. "The ocean is no place to play around with that kind of stuff, You could have seriously injured him with that stunt you pulled. You don't cure phobias by throwing a victim into the middle of their fear."

Bunny couldn't help but take a step back from the sudden verbal attack. He rubbed at his neck sheepishly and looked to the side. "Yeah, mate….sorry."

"You should be taking him to a pool or someplace that is safer, with no waves."

"I told you guys!" Tooth chimed in. Koz turned towards her and then looked down at Jack again, who was hugging his knees.

Koz kneeled and addressed the man in question. "Are you alright?"

Jack nodded.

"Did you want to work on your phobia?"

Jack nodded again.

"How about a pool first, hm?" Koz asked and Jack just gave him a noncommittal shrug. "I work at the Y's pool during the week, it's a pretty nice place, I can get you a membership, you want to try there?"

Koz didn't really know why he was offering all of this to this kid. He was a stranger. Koz couldn't even really say he saved his life, he just helped him with a panic attack. But… Well, he had caught his eye earlier in the afternoon and he was quite good looking too… He just… was interesting was all.

"Will you be there?" Jack asked looking up and uncurling a bit from the ball he put himself into.

"I can be if you want. You want me to give you lessons?"

Jack smiled and nodded.

"Alright then, we have ourselves an accord."

"An accord?" Jack laughed at the strange words.

"Yes, a deal. Here, let me give you my number."

Jack pulled out his cellphone from the beach bag and let Koz enter his information into it, and Koz heard a 'yeesh' as Bunny and North walked away.

"I work there Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. You can text me your availability if you want, okay?" Koz said as he stood up and ruffled his hand through Jack's hair. "I have to get back to work now; don't let Bunny pressure you into the ocean again, I don't want to fish out your corpse."

And with that he waved bye to Jack and his friends and turned to leave. He definitely didn't catch the high-five exchanged between Jack and Tooth behind his back.

* * *

Hey, I just wanted to throw out there that my tumblr is zinfandelli. tumblr. com, and it would be swell to say hi! I'm more than happy to answer questions and take au suggestions for all of the oneshots i'm doing :D

If you don't want to invade my tumblr, i'd love to hear your opinions in comments! give me some ideas to work into stories, yo! :D


	13. Daddy Kink

So this time is a space pirate au! many thanks to fanartdrawer. tumblr. com and happy birthday to her as well! 3

* * *

So they were orbiting a planet, hiding their ship in its asteroid rings. Things were calm and peaceful for once as the crew embarked on a supply run down to the surface in their small schooner crafts.

Captain Pitch had requested Jack, his first mate, to stay behind. Jack grinned all that day, knowing precisely why the command had been placed. This next week all alone on the ship would be the perfect excuse to have a bit of fun.

A few hours after the rest of the crew left, Jack went and knocked on Pitch's cabin door. It swung open invitingly and he stepped inside.

Pitch laid sprawled on his mess of pillows in nothing more than a robe, a goblet of meteoroid meade in one hand, a star chart booklet in the other. Jack smiled slyly as he toed off his boots and approached.

"Took you long enough."

"Sorry sir, I wanted to secure the ship for the next few days as I would be otherwise… occupied." The mirth in his voice was thick.

Pitch smiled and placed the book down on his lap.

"Why don't we finish off the last of my stellar spirits while we wait for the new shipment to arrive?" He suggested languidly.

Jack smiled in turn and went over to the captain's gravity bar to pour himself an asteroid aperitif. He then approached the bed with a drink in hand and fell to his knees at his captain's side. Jack took a swig of the strong liquor.

"What are your orders, captain?"

"Come here, son."

Jack had to pause. "Son?"

Pitch grinned, "Yes, I don't miss how you appreciate a strong male leader in your life, like a father, Jackson, I can be that figure."

Jack scoffed and frowned. "I don't need a father, Captain," he emphasized with a sarcastic distain.

Which caused Pitch to frown in turn. "No? But you take orders so well."

"Because you are my Captain. Not my father."

"Is that so."

"My father was a nobody; he left; I don't even remember him," Jack argued and stood up, stepping away from the bed, no longer in much mood to play.

Pitch sat up in his pillows. "I didn't know you felt so strongly about this."

"I don't feel anything for him," Jack bit back. Then sighed and forced himself to correct his statement. "I don't remember him, I don't want to be reminded of him, of his failures, of the harshness of life on our planet due to the hardships my mother faced raising myself and my sister alone. I send back stipends over lightspeed post for a reason." Jack downed his drink and went back to the bar to refill it.

"You wouldn't want me for a son anyways," he clipped out, short and abrupt. He filled his glass with a shot, took it in one gulp and refilled it.

"I would be proud to have you as my son." Pitch replied firmly and evenly.

Jack turned and gripped his glass and watched Pitch warily. He did not believe him.

"I would be proud." Pitch reiterated then continued. "You have a ridiculous amount of compassion for a pirate, it makes you, quite frankly, a liability sometimes-"

Jack glared and gulped down his drink angrily, but Pitch held up his hand, entreating him to let him continue.

"But it also makes you a good man. The best of us. I wouldn't trade you as my first mate for anyone. You are the most trustworthy of my crewmen, I would hand my life to you. I have done so before; you have never betrayed me, you have never fallen on your word and you have saved many the life of nearly all of our crew at one point or another. As a father I would be proud."

Pitch held up his goblet in toast. Jack felt wetness at his eyes.

"You don't mean that." Jack choked out, his throat having closed up with emotions he tried so hard to quell.

"I do."

"We're pirates."

"Does not mean we are heathens."

"Some of us are."

And Pitch laughed. "Too true. But loyalty and camaraderie are still virtues."

"And yet no civil person would think we had any." Jack felt a smile pulling at his lips once again.

"No they would not," Pitch agreed and drank from his glass grinning.

"You are the worst of them."

"I hope that I am more than the worst," Pitch replied and raised his hand beckoning Jack back over.

Jack approached and got on his knees to crawl into the pillows once again. "Still, you wouldn't want me for a son," he quipped.

"Why not?"

And at that, Jack downed his final refill feeling the warmth of the alcohol in his system urge him on. He let his glass roll from his fingers and disappear somewhere within the fluff of the pillows as he climbed upon his captain's lap. His hand's came up to Pitch's shoulders and pressed him back into the pillows, his knees hugging at Pitch's hips.

Jack pressed his lips to his captains and breathed a chill no where near the freezing degree of space onto the dark lips at his mercy. He licked at them and Pitch opened his mouth in invitation. But, Jack pulled back and sat up a bit. He stared down at Pitch, who was licking his lips clean of the frost he had breathed onto them and dark smirk quirked them up at the corners.

"Because, son's don't kiss their fathers."

* * *

Can you tell i don't like daddy kinks? sorry guys, no kink shaming, just not my thing, so i did the next best thing! i switched it around to better suit my tastes :


	14. DominanceSubmission

Ehehe. Ok, so i really like this au. I don't even know a simple way to label it! its another mishmash of a lot ideas, and its pretty fun! Lemme know what you think

* * *

He had been sold. Like goddamn cattle. It was bound to happen with his recklessness, really, but it still didn't mean he wasn't absolutely livid about it. This was the world Jack was born into, his family wasn't rich enough to avoid the slums, and they were no longer there to keep him out of trouble.

And boy did he get in trouble.

So being a black market runner was maybe not the best or brightest of jobs, but it had helped Jack to survive, gave him food and money, and so what if he kept some of the goods to himself, no one noticed a pinched charm or wayward hex. They were handy, they got him out of tight spots. They also got him into the tightest one yet.

His boss had caught him; Jack hadn't been sly enough. The magic was more carefully monitored and he didn't know, and, bam, he was caught. None of his saved illegal spells were of any use.

His magic was stripped bare, he was left with barely enough of his internal spark left to breathe, and he was chained up and sent to market.

He found himself upon the auction block, in nothing but his dirty knickers. He was filthy, no one would buy a scrawny welp like him, and he made sure to muddy his white hair to make himself even more unremarkable.

His plan failed, however. It failed spectacularly. He was bought half way through and he didn't even catch who the caller was.

Things happened quickly after that, he was yanked down off the block by the chain around his neck and ushered backstage. A sack was thrown over his head and he was hauled off and chucked into the back of… a carriage?

Who had bought him, that they still used a horse drawn carriage instead of a car? Cars were the newest fad, and everyone had one, but this… He felt the bumps in the pavement and listened to the clatter of horse hooves over stone as he was driven away to his new fate.

…

Upon arrival at wherever he was, Jack was grabbed by the upper arm and dragged off by a forceful hand. He didn't shout or protest, there was nothing much to be done at this point, the spells would be cast and his life would be bound to whichever sleazebag had coughed up the dough for his sorry hide.

Jack was a far cry from the life he had hoped to make for himself.

The hand on him halted their walk and stilled Jack. It let go and then tugged the bag from his head. Jack blinked, the dim light enough to his already adjusted eyes and found himself...at an altar? A church altar?

He looked around quickly and saw that yeah… that's where he was. In a church. But, instead of pews and pulpit, the vast room had been fashioned into a home. He barely got a glance at lavish dark furniture before that hand was in his disgusting hair and his head was bowed.

He couldn't help his yelp as a brand was burned into the back of his neck, he felt the magic sizzle into his flesh and tears sprung in his eyes. That was it, he was a slave. With no fanfare or pomp, the fingers returned to his neck and smeared a salve across the wound, sending a healing shiver down his spine. Jack kept his head bowed, he was defeated, this was the end. He didn't even care who had bought him, why they paid whatever stupid amount for his hide, what their plans were for his life. He had none of that now. He hadn't even put up a fight. He should have fought, have tried to escape. Worthless.

A sob ripped through his throat involuntarily. He had stopped breathing and the sharp intake of breath his body forced upon him brought his voice with it. He was ashamed.

The hand was on his back and pushed him off to the right. He went with it as it guided him, stumbling slightly to wherever. Probably a torture chamber or a dungeon, or this asshole's bedroom. He didn't even think he could have been bought as a sex slave, He had hoped the mud was enough of a deterrent to have the perverts shy away.

But, he found himself led to a bath. He was ushered inside and his owners voice gave him a single firm and unfeeling command, "Bathe." before it left him alone.

He did just that, not even fathoming the thought of drowning himself. He couldn't just… die, it never occurred to him, and he couldn't dishonor the memory of his mother by amounting his life to nothing, not that there was any hope left of being a something.

Regardless, he finished washing up and found a black towel to dry off and then a small stack of black clothing to put on. They were black slacks, a black dress shirt, and a black vest. He had black socks but no shoes, it was all rather...fancy.

And that was when he finally decided to look around and take in where he was to live from now on. The bathroom was lavish, a deep copper tub built into a pedestal base with taps overhanging to pour in; off to the side was a separate shower encased in slick black stone, with copper plumbing. This bathroom had a copper sink and a black ceramic toilet. The indoor plumbing was poshe enough, but this was down right extravagant. A high circular window let in moonlight and the room was lit with dimmed gas lamps with open flames rimming the walls. The epitome of technology...but wasn't he bought by a mage?

Tentatively, Jack opened the door and stepped out, he was immediately in the vast open cathedral, the bathroom apparently in a modified room just off to the side. He took a few more steps and looked around, his mouth gaping open. The ceiling was high and disappeared in the dim light, gas lighting was along all of the walls and the piping rose from the floor as standing lamps as well as hung from the ceiling into three dense chandeliers. One wall was a massive stained glass window depicting the Christ child in the arms of Mary.

The room itself was altered into a living space, there were a few sitting areas designated by a couple of couches and coffee tables, a grand banquet table was on one side with baroque chairs and place settings and it was separated by folding screens to an open air kitchen with, what jack assumed, to be all the most modern appliances.

Off to the side, set apart by towering bookcases was a study with a desk and leather couches, there was an open brazier with a merrily crackling fire in it's bowl that was contained in a mesh cage and capped by a metal chimney that angled off up into the ceiling. This caught Jack's attention and he approached it.

"Ahem." That dark voice made its presence known and Jack whirled on it to face his...oh god, his master.

The man was sitting at the desk, a mess of papers in front of him, reading glasses sliding down his nose. Jack gasped and frowned then looked away quickly. He still put his owner's appearance to memory. He was...unfortunately attractive. His features were sharp, angular. He had a beaked nose and cutting cheekbones. He was dark skinned, a foreigner - it brought to mind many questions on how he acquired such wealth (foreigners weren't well liked, especially not Persian ones). He had black hair slicked back almost at chin length, and piercings up both ears - magic talismans directly in his flesh, it made Jack shiver. Only...only the fearless outwardly adorned magic.

"Your name?" The man asked.

"It doesn't matter," Jack said to his stockinged feet.

"I will not call you boy for the rest of your life, and you will curb your attitude and address me as 'Sir'."

"It's Jack, sir," Jack bit out between his teeth.

"Alright, Jack. Do you know why I bought you?"

"To be your fucktoy...sir?" Jack couldn't help but snark, he was signing his own death warrant.

"Do I have to bespell your tongue?"

"Maybe, sir." Jack said and finally looked up, defiant. His glare faltered when he caught his master smiling at him, a crooked threatening thing.

"I bought you because you have magic, and it will be useful to me. Do you know who I am?" He asked.

"No, sir."

"I am Pitch Black-"

"-The Necromancer!" Jack gasped, horrified, and took a step back. This had Pitch standing in turn, looming over his desk, both hands on it.

Jack looked around like he had a chance to escape, but his resolve barely set before a piercing stab shot through his neck and he crumpled to the floor.

"Ah, ah. None of that now." Pitch said as he crossed from behind his desk and approached Jack on the floor.

Jack was gasping for breath, his hand clutching at the back of his neck, a shiver wracking his frame. Pitch knelt in front of Jack and lifted his chin with one finger. Jack was wide eyed.

"I see my reputation precedes me, but, you are mine now and have nothing to fear so long as you obey. It would not do to break such an expensive possession."

Jack recoiled and scrambled back, bumping into the coffee table. He lifted a hand and tried to call whatever magic was left to him for protection, to keep the madman away. Ice curled into his palm in a pathetic display, all he could manage were jagged claws on three of his fingers, hardly the projectile weapon he was aiming for.

"S-stay away!" Jack screeched and swiped the air with his clawed hand. But Pitch swooped down upon him and caught his iced hand in his and yanked Jack from the floor by his wrist. He forced Jack into a chair and quickly broke off one of his ice claws.

"Amazing." Pitch proclaimed and he released Jack's wrist and stepped back examining the ice. Jack hugged his hand to his chest.

"I knew I chose correctly. I felt it when you were on the block. I felt cold. I…" Pitch trailed off and then turned and threw the ice shard into the fire. He watched as the flames licked the magical substance. It melted abnormally slow and then caught on fire itself, turning the fire briefly a blazing white then a smouldering blue before it melted and disappeared completely.

"Very good." Pitch complimented and turned back to Jack, who was dumbstruck as he watched his ice melt. He had never tried that, hell, he never used his ice much - it was dangerous and had no purpose.

"What do you want with me?" Jack croaked and met the blazing golden eyes staring down at him hungrily.

"You will be groomed to be my servant and eventually apprentice to assist with my work and everyday life."

"A-apprentice?"

"Ah, well...Most consider it unsavory work, and the rumors are quite astounding, but necromancy is a beautiful art and finds many practical uses. It also pays exorbitantly."

"Who wants a bunch of rotting zombies anyways." Jack grumbled, relaxing in the chair just a smidge.

"Zombies have a plethora of uses, but there is much better use in the dead than just animated corpses. You will learn, and your ice will be a boon."

"How." Jack didn't believe him.

"Any number of uses, preservation of bodies, intimidation tactics, tool crafting, chilling my tea, restocking the ice box, chilling the air in the summer." Pitch grinned as he leaned against his desk.

Jack scowled, "I'm not some convenient blizzard."

"You are now."


	15. Dirty Talk

Jack was starting to become uncomfortable.

The shutter snapped again and he shifted position slighty, keeping his eyes on the lens, and concertedly trying not to focus on the face behind the camera, and especially not on the litany of compliments and praises spilling from the mouth of said photographer.

This was…

It was nearly ridiculous he couldn't… He'd been fighting a blush for the past ten minutes. It was...unprofessional...what this guy was doing.

Ok, ok. Mind to other things. How did he get into this situation anyways?

Right. Fuck.

…

So, Jackson was a… model, you could say. His online persona was Jack Frost, he was one of the feature boys on the newly launched Suicide Boys website. They were an online company, sure, but they were based out of Chicago, and a few months back they had put an advertisement for 'alternative male models' up on craigslist and with certain agents.

Jack had one of those agents as it so happened.

He wasn't always a model; he had a stable job that was his main income at an auto garage in a suburb of the city. It was what he had been doing most of his life, what he went to technical school for. It paid well enough; he was single, living alone, he earned enough surplus to mail back home to help Emma's college fund and their mother make rent. A pretty sweet setup.

On the side, ever since highschool, Jack had run a blog. It became pretty popular when he started posting up the tattoos he was gradually acquiring. He wrote journal entries, posted pictures of his work, the cars he worked on, details on the classics and updates on the fixer-uppers.

It didn't hurt that he was just as attractive as the vehicles he posted. He knew this. Jack wasn't blind, he had an aesthetic eye and could tell his face was above average. It wasn't arrogance or narcissism; it was just a fact. Jack hadn't ever made a living on his looks and didn't profit on his face… until he was convinced by a customer (a talent agent with the sweetest El Camino Jack had ever had the pleasure of repainting), to try out for a few advertisement slots.

Needless to say, the auditions went stupidly well. Jack viewed the whole situation with a grain of salt; his future didn't ride on this and that provided him a comfort and confidence many seasoned models lacked. Consequently, his nonchalance meant he was an ease to work with and his perpetually light demeanor made people like him.

He became pretty successful.

His blog skyrocketed, and The Guardians Talent Agency assigned Jack his own personal assistant.

Baby Tooth, as Jack had taken to calling her, the niece of one of the owners of the agency, was just a few years younger than Jack and they had become fast friends. She was a wonder at organization, even for being so young. Jack wanted to help her get where she was going just as much as she wanted to help Jack juggle his new responsibilities.

Overwhelming was an understatement.

Jack's blog turned into a website, his online persona now his professional name. He worked at the Burgess Auto Body Repair Garage forty hours a week in the mornings, and either maintained his social media in the evenings or went to a photoshoot or filming. It was all small stuff, local things or stylistic/artistic formats. With his white hair, gauged ears, and tattoos he was rather a niche look.

Which was more than fine by him! This was all rather busy for having a full time job! Not to mention he wasn't going to tone down his look for more mainstream gigs.

This all lead up to the position he found himself in this particular evening. The Guardians were a well established agency for providing unique models and for encouraging diversity in the industry. They weren't too huge outside of Chicago, but by the mere virtue of their joint CEO's being of culturally diverse ethnicities did they hold sway on promoting alternative race, body-type, and body-modification models.

They were obviously the first go-to for the new soft-core pornography website.

Suicide Boys had a good backing behind it, seemed pretty trustworthy. Jack wouldn't have agreed if BT's aunt hadn't proposed the job to Jack. It was...well, Jack had done artistic nude modelling before, but they were with pretty specific scenarios already in place. A modern take on neo-classical paintings, punk-shakespeare, figure drawing classes at some art institutes; low key stuff.

This? This was portfolio shots of just him with a plain background. He was the focus, not part of a group, and not being a live subject. It was kind of intimidating actually. Jack agreed regardless. There was little to dissuade him when the photographer would adjust to his time schedule and comfort.

So. Here he was, having ended up in the personal loft studio of the photographer himself (a really well known name actually. P. Black Photography was a pretty high end brand, doing more magazine plate work than anything Jack had encountered.)

Jack arrived with his own wardrobe of clothing as suggested by Mr. Black. Some work casuals, a few of his stained shirts from the garage, his favorite brown ripped up jeans. He was told to bring what he was most comfortable in, his relaxation clothes, his work clothes, any outfits of his he particularly enjoyed. Baby Tooth nearly squealed when she heard the news and demanded Jack take his leather jacket and his dress clothes too, complete with ugly grandpa sweater, vest, and bowties.

Jack felt silly, but still stepped up and greeted the man as confidently as he could.

Mr. Black was striking to say the least. Jack thought he should be a model too. Maybe he was when he was younger? He seemed something like early forties. He was dark skinned, some middle-eastern ethnicity that Jack couldn't even fathom to name. His black hair was pulled back into a low pony-tail. He wore a dark gray henley under a loose black cardigan and washed out black jeans. He had hard soled leather shoes that screamed expense, a gold ring on his thumb and gold wired glasses. Really intimidating. And that crisp English accent did nothing but enhance his stern aura.

Also very professional. He gave Jack a once over when they met and proceeded to look through his clothes, dismissing any small talk right off the bat. He was purposefully keeping Jack on the edge of his nerves. THis was the most nervous he'd ever been.

Pitch, as the man informed Jack, handed Jack his brown jeans, a white button up, and his baggy royal blue button down sweater. He eyed the brown argyle bowtie, nodded, and gave that to Jack as well.

"Do you..have a room I can change in?"

The man just smiled. Jack took a deep breath, oh geez.

"You can change right here. I just need to set up the lights. Don't worry, the clothes aren't staying on long anyways."

Jack inwardly groaned. Of course. Pornographic photography and all. Of course he'd be made to change here.

Pitch turned and busied himself with unpacking his camera and adjusting the lights. Jack stripped quickly and pulled his pants on.

"Hm."

Jack paused at the sound. "Yes?" He asked, while zippering his jeans. Jack turned and found Pitch watching him.

"Your tattoos are...nice." Pitch commented idly and turned back to his case of lenses.

"Thanks…" Jack replied before throwing the shirt and sweater on. "Which shoes do you want?"

"None. Barefoot is good. You ready?"

"As I'll ever be, I suppose." Jack walked over to Pitch.

Pitch straightened and looked at Jack, throwing the strap of the camera over his head. He moved in a half circle around Jack and then quickly scrunched the sleeves of Jack's sweater up his arms to show off his tattoos. Next, his hand was in Jack's hair ruffling it up and undoing most of Jack's not so carefully styled bedhead. It just looked wilder, Jack grinned in embarrassment and ducked a little as Pitch deftly re-styled his hair into a swoopy to the side windswept style.

"Good. Very good." Pitch murmured as he completed his circuit around his subject. Jack hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and waited.

"Yes. This will do nicely. Very nice. Hop on up there," Pitch instructed. Jack followed the command and went into the focus of the lights. "Just follow my lead, please, Jack," Pitch said and Jack hummed an affirmative.

The camera began to click as soon as Jack faced back to Pitch. Jack was caught a little off guard but kept his stance strong. "Good. Yes, very attractive. You're very good looking. Smile for me a little. Not too much, just a bit of teeth. Good, just like that. Hold it a moment. Look to your left a little? Ah, your right, my left."

A stream of consciousness began to fall from Pitch's lips. Commands and gestures, poses and angles gave jack constant direction. It was...different. Jack was used to photographers talking, but Pitch gave the opposite impression of this when Jack first walked in. He seemed completely different...intense.

"Alright, unbutton your sweater. Slowly. Slower. Rebutton it and try again. Ah, good. Look down at what you're doing, don't worry, just do it naturally, but slower. Hook a finger in the bowtie. Good. Yeah. Turn a little to the right, Good. Perfect. You're perfect. So good. Take the sweater off, we don't need it anymore. Ah! Slowly. Do it slowly. Good. Good. Just toss it to the side. Pull your sleeves back down. Make to undo the cuffs and roll them up your arms. Yes, Perfect. So good."

The praises were starting to pop up almost every other sentence. It helped Jack to relax, any stiffness he started out with faded in the first five minutes. Mr. Black's intimidating figure didn't seem so daunting behind a lense and Jack was easily able to fall into his comfort as they continued. Then…

"Alright, untuck your shirt. Undo your belt. Turn to face me directly, good. Look at me. Keep your hands on your belt. Good. Just like that. Tilt your head down a bit but still look-Good. Perfect. Bite your- Yes! Yes, you're getting it now, Jack. That's great, Jack. Really good. Take off the bowtie now, and start to unbutton your shirt. Ah. Good. You're getting it. Just like that. Give me- Yeah, yeah good."

Saying his name like that, Jack could feel his cheeks heat up a bit. No. Blushing was not what he needed to do right now. Pitch wouldn't stop talking, and moving, and snapping photos. He wouldn't stop saying Jack's name now peppered with compliments and encouragements, directions and bursts of excited praise. Oh jeez.

He was slowly baring his chest, sliding the shirt off his shoulders, pausing when told so and shifting angles and position. His eyes fell to the floor and he involuntarily brought a hand up to touch his cheeks without thinking.

"Ah!" Pitch exclaimed and Jack stopped dead in his tracks. Oh shit.

"S-Sorry, I-" Jack dropped his hand and looked at the lens.

"No! No, do that again. That was good! Very natural! Great! No, put your hand back. What's wrong? Are you hot? Are the lights too hot?" Pitch made to approach and Jack stepped back.

"No, no. I'm fine, I just...Am I blushing? I'm trying not to blush.'

Pitch let his camera rest on his chest and straightened. He had a curious look on his face for a second and then grinned something that made Jack's stomach flip. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Ah…" Jack actually did feel his face flush red at the question. "No, I'm not...I've done nudes before just...uh...Maybe a little?" He looked down a bit sheepish and scrubbed a hand through his hair.

Click.

Jack looked up a bit shocked. Click. Again! Pitch had the camera back up to his eye and was taking photos. Jack's mouth fell open at another click, and another one to get his reaction.

"Uh," he tried.

"No, This is great. You're very cute like this." Pitch supplied from behind his camera.

"C-cute?"

"Immensely. Adorable even. The blush is great. It looks great with your white hair, really makes your blue eyes stand out. It's perfect. You're perfect, Jack."

Oh god. His face must be flaming, he felt himself heat up all over his body.

"I, uh." Jack raised a hand and covered his eyes. This was really embarrassing now. Pitch just took another photo. "I might need a minute...in a minute to uh...go back to normal." Jack almost croaked.

Pitch laughed. and Jack looked up, shocked. It was a deep and affectionate laugh. really attractive. Oh…

Oh no.

"Take your shirt off now." Pitch instructed.

Jack was too caught up with his own reaction to stop his automatic movement to fulfill the command. Just doing what he was told at a photoshoot was too ingrained and before he realized his shirt was around his bare feet and he gasped a little in the chill air, more acute from Jack's heated skin.

"Your shoulders are blushing too." Pitch said and Jack looked at him, a little devastated. He was slipping down an exceedingly slick slope right now.

"Uhm…"

"Are you cold?" Pitch asked. Jack looked down, His nipples were stiff. Yeah. He was cold. Goosebumps ran down his arms and Jack made to hug himself but stopped. Pitch hadn't said anything, hadn't given him a command or a pose to take. Jack didn't know what to do with himself.

"Not really," Jack said, "But uhm, what do you want me to do?"

"What do you want to do?" Pitch asked.

Jack shrugged and the camera clicked away again. "I don't know… You're the one giving commands."

"Are you wearing underwear?"

"S-should I be?"

"It helps with the teasing photos."

"I'm...I'm so sorry." Jack stammered. "I don't normally wear them with...these pants so I didn't think about it. I have some I can put them on."

"No. No, don't worry about it. This is good. Really good. Put your thumbs in your belt loops like earlier. That was really hot." Jack obeyed. "Now, twist your arms in, show off your sleeves. the geometric work is astounding. Really something. Are they snowflakes?"

"Some are, yeah," Jack said as he shifted a little to the side, looked down for a moment as his belly and the black hindi lacework that lead to his crotch.

"Pull your pants down about two inches. Yes. good. Oh. Oooh." Pitch crooned and stepped closer. Jack felt his face go flaming. "Are your pubes dyed white too?"

Oh god. Jack knew this would happen eventually. "My uh...My assistant said that my uhm...Curtains need to match the drapes."

Pitch laughed. Full out. He let his camera fall against his chest and just laughed for like a good ten seconds straight!

"H-hey!" Jack protested, and felt extremely foolish.

Pitch stopped, sucked in some air and looked at Jack, smiling. "It's great."

"Uh...really? It's not too much?"

"No. It's perfect. You're perfect." Pitch said and stepped back raising his camera up again. "It's for Suicide Boys, so it's right in line. Bold and daring and all that. You'll make bank off of this. People will eat up this dichotomy. Blushing cutie with a mischievous streak. Jack Frost, you said? Is that your real name?"

"N-no. My name's Jackson Overland."

"Jack Frost is very fitting. Frosty. You're so hot. Dichotomy," Pitch said and clicked a few pictures.

The compliments sent all of that heat in Jack's face straight to his crotch. His...Oh god. His pants were really tight in general this was… He curled in on himself just a bit.

"Something wrong?"

"No!" Jack squeaked and there was the blush back.

Pitch's lips quirked up and Jack watched and knew he was doomed. Shit.

"You're hard."

"Oh god."

"It's good," Pitch said and snapped a series of quick photos as Jack quickly shifted to cover himself. Pitch could see it through his jeans.

"That was a lovely pose," Pitch said, "But you need to let me photograph you."

Jack wouldn't move his hands away.

"Jack." Pitch said and stood up again.

"Sorry," Jack mumbled.

"This is sort of the point of the photoshoot, you know. No need to apologize."

"Y-yeah…"

"Take a few deep breaths. There you go. In and out. You've said you've done nudes before?"

"I've never gotten a boner doing them though."

"That was never the goal of the shoot, so I'm not surprised." Pitch replied.

"You planned this?"

"Well… No, but it is a pornographic shoot so you would have needed to get hard somehow or other. Are you uncomfortable?" Pitch said and then grinned slyly.

"Yeah. Hey! Not that way!" Jack retorted and then shifted again.

"If you take them off it won't be so uncomfortable."

"Oh my god You did do this on purpose!"

"Maybe. Unzip your jeans, Jack." Pitch said in his commanding accented voice again.

Jack gulped.

"Calm down and do it slowly."

Jack just laughed. "Calm down? Yeah. Ok. Sure." He barked sarcastically.

Pitch grinned, "Not in that way." He used Jack's words against him.

The banter surprisingly did what it needed to. Jack took a deep breath and moved his hands away from his crotch. The camera began to click again as Jack rubbed across his hips with both hands. He concentrated on...well, he couldn't pretend he was alone, so he concentrated on Pitch and the camera. Jack visualized that he was doing this for Pitch, a Pitch that was his. He passed his hand over the black linework across his lower abdomen.

Pitch's deluge or words sparked up again. Things at once became more intimate but also more distant.

"Unzip yourself. Yes. Yes, just like that." Pitch almost whispered. He sounded reverent. "Put your hands in your pants. Good. Shrug them down your hips. Perfect. You're doing so well, Jack. So well. So hot. Take yourself out."

Jack obeyed.

His pants were half way down his thighs and his cock stood at attention. His hands rested palms down on each thigh, Jack looked down at himself, Pitch instructed him to look to the side. He obeyed.

Pitch's voice became a distant thrum in Jack's mind as he shifted, as he was instructed to hold himself with one hand, with both. He pressed his cock against his thigh, let it bounce back to attention, all to the command of that deep english accented voice. The camera clicks were whitenoise, Jack shifted angle, obeyed.

What seemed like no time at all passed. Jack only became aware when the background noise of the camera ceased. He blinked and looked over at Pitch. Pitch looked...hungry.

"Jack."

"Yes?" Jack felt a little dreamy.

"Did you hear me?"

"Yes?"

"Jack," and pitch laughed again.

"Hm?" Jack asked again. He glanced down, at himself. He was still hard, ridiculously so. That voice was so alluring. He noticed he had started to leak precome, it ran down the length of him. He felt he should be more embarrassed about this.

"Do you want to come?"

"Oh god yes."

"I mean for the camera. Do you want to be captured while coming?"

"I get a choice?"

"Its soft-core porn, Jack." He loved the way Pitch said his name. "We've already crossed that line a while ago, though. You can make more money if you finish."

"I don't care about the money. I have a job." Jack furrowed his brow a little, all he really wanted to do right now was come. Come to the sound of that hypnotic voice.

"They don't have to be published. But maybe, I think you should finish without the camera." Pitch suggested.

"I want…" Jack mumbled as he lightly ran his fingers up his cock absently.

"Yes?"

"I want your voice." And Jack found Pitch's eyes with his own, they were just as seductive as his dark voice, oh god.

And those eyes crinkled slightly into a warm smile. Pitch took a moment as Jack watched him ravenously. He watched as Pitch removed the camera from around his neck, set it upon the side table holding all of his lenses. He watched as Pitch sat upon a stool and crossed his ankles, folded his arms across his chest. He watched as Pitch slowly raked his amber eyes down and up Jack's body, and as his smiled widened.

"Alright then," Pitch spoke lowly, slowly. "Then, come."

And Jack obeyed.


	16. Brothel

"No. Absolutely not."

"We're already on the same block. You're coming in. You won't be disappointed."

"No, Pitch. This is a terrible idea. These places are disgusting. Disease runs rampant, the blood reeks of decay. The people are washed out husks. _Stop pulling me_!" Koz dug his heels into the sidewalk and yanked his arm from his brother's grip, fuming.

Pitch spun on his heel and faced his twin, scoffing. "Get your panties out of that twist. We're going into the establishment and you will meet Jack and you will love him and we will take him home to be ours."

"You are delusional!" Koz shouted and scrubbed a hand through his hair. He had had no success the past few weeks to dissuade his brother from this harebrained scheme. "This is madness! We're living in the twenty-first century now! No one just takes people as property anymore-!"

"Slavery still exists in the modern world, brother-"

"NOT THE POINT! It does not exist here, in America, in New York!"

Pitch made to argue that point further, but Koz held up a sharp finger and silenced him. Pitch glared as he snapped his fangs shut.

"I don't know what broke in your head in your dotage but you have been spouting these lunacies for a month. I can't believe you visited a- a Blood Bath House to begin with! We are above such base behaviour! We stopped killing and stealing nearly a hundred years ago! Why stoop back down to ghouls who suck dry the dirtiest lowlifes on the streets?"

Pitch's glare morphed to a toothy grin as Koz ranted. Koz stopped dead when he noticed. That look meant nothing good.

"But, _brother dear_." Pitch crooned as he stepped up to his sibling and took both of his hands in his own. "This isn't like that at all. It's classy. You'll like it. It's clean, you can't smell an STD for miles. The beverages come in the hundreds. They have catalogues. The humans want to be sipped. No one dies, they get paid. Its astounding. And Jack." Pitch had to pause a moment as his eyes fluttered closed and his tongue licked at a sharp tooth.

"Jack is gorgeous." Pitch said on an exhale. "He is beautiful, clean, lovely. He is ethereal, his blood is addictive. His personality is astounding! There's barely any who fear vampires anymore, but then there is _Jack_. Not afraid, but oh, he was fascinated. And I was his first bite. His first! Can you believe it Koz?" Pitch slung an arm around Koz' shoulder and slowly they began to walk again.

"And...I paid to reserve him."

Koz gulped. He was doomed.

…

So the place was impressive. Pitch was smug as he lead his brother into the building and to the elevators. The mere elevator was grand with dark wood and black stone accents. Koz was determined not to give Pitch the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so'.

The elevator doors opened and the brothers were immediately in a fancy, yet cosy reception area. There was a massive desk in black flanked on either side by two quite intimidating vampires. One was nearly as tall at Koz and Pitch were, but he was large, round, and had an impressively long white beard. The man on the other side was built to ridiculous proportions with swept back gray hair and thick black tattoos up his arms and neck. Koz could feel the strength and authority radiate from the two men.

Between them, behind the desk, sat a petite woman in jewel toned finery. Her hair was dyed a multitude of colors and she wore dazzlingly jeweled glasses. She sat with a tablet on a small mount in front of her and nothing else.

The woman looked up as Pitch pulled his brother to the desk.

"Good evening, Mr. Black. How may I help you tonight?"

"I would like to introduce Jackson to my brother," Pitch said. Koz stepped up to the counter and nodded in greeting, keeping his mouth shut.

The woman tsk'd and lowered her glasses to get a good look at Kozmotis. She frowned.

"Is there a problem?"

"We do not normally allow two patrons to one beverage." She said matter of factly.

"Ah." Pitch said taken back. Koz could tell he did not anticipate this.

"If I may," Koz chimed in. "Pitch was much more eager for me to merely meet Jackson. I am willing to forgo a drink tonight, but may we split the amount allowed between us?"

The woman paused and then tapped a dainty finger to her lip. "North, what do you think?"

The large bearded man turned and eyed the twins. "My opinion matters not, ask Sandy."

"I think its a ruddy awful idea," the other guard spoke up. The looks he received from the other two clearly stated that they knew what his opinion was.

The woman typed something into her tablet and sat back for a few seconds.

One of the doors off of the reception room swung open and a short man stepped out from behind it. Koz felt stiff under his gaze as the man walked behind the desk towards the receptionist. The pair of them were human as Koz realized, somehow forgetting to take previous notice to their status, by the amounts of silver jewelry on their persons. The woman had earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, the little man had cufflinks, rings, and his own ear piercings. They were protection wards. They lie dormant but Koz could already tell these two humans were quite influential. Powerful.

SIlently, the little golden man eyed Pitch and Koz, turned towards his receptionist, and nodded. He smiled warmly at the brothers, made a little bowing motion merely with his head and retreated back towards his room.

"Mr. Mansnoozie has agreed to your suggestion, Mr. Black." The woman said crisply turning back to the brothers. She smiled more openly now, not so defensive. "The regulated amount of blood one can partake in from a host is one pint here, or just under a half liter. My name is Ms. Toothiana Hy Loo. Ms. B.T. will escort you to the lounge momentarily. Welcome to the Sleepy Sands Nightclub, Mr. Black."

…

A petite young human woman, strikingly resembling Ms. Hy Loo in colorful appearance, led the pair down a windowed hallway. Koz noted they were distinctly facing the east, to catch the sunrise. Clever. She escorted them to a small suite, lavishly decorated, and left them there to wait after taking Pitch's order for three waters, a coke, and a full course steak dinner.

Koz sat in a plush velvet upholstered wingback chair and looked around at the room. Pitch flopped back onto the large matching couch and kicked his shoes off.

"It's nice right? Can you even smell anything foul? I can't. I've tried."

"No, it smells fine. The humans were wearing an amount of silver though. Enchanted too."

"The place apparently has a reputation. It's why they have those two guards at the entrance as well. I've heard scuffles go down once or twice. Saw some lowlifes be thrown down the back stairs. Other vampires want in. They can't afford it."

"How much is this costing, Pitch?"

"Enough. But, it's worth it. Wait till you see Jack."

"He's an employee here, Pitch. What makes you think you can take him home."

"I think because he will want to."

A knock was at the door, and before either of them could stand to get it, B.T. re-entered with the beverages to place on the coffee table. She also brought a place setting for the meal.

"Ms. Hy Loo told me to inform you that Mr. Frost shall have no more than two wounds by the end of this evening."

They acquiesced and Koz tipped her for the drinks. She left and Pitch laughed.

"Oh that won't be a problem," Pitch said taking a water to sip.

"Pitch," Koz reprimanded. Pitch just grinned at him.

A second knock came, but no one immediately opened the door like before. Pitch sprang to his feet before Koz could and practically ran to the door and swung it open.

"Jack," he breathed. Koz was standing and as Pitch moved aside to let the young man in Koz's breath seemed to leave his body.

Pitch was right. He knew his brother was rarely ever wrong, but this… Koz felt a fool. All of his stubbornness was ill founded in the face of this… Pitch was right.

Pitch quietly closed the door behind them and Jack was grinning holding a hand out while Koz just gaped. Pitch's head was on Jack's shoulder and his hands on Jack's arms and Pitch was grinning all fangs.

"I told you I had a twin."

Jack laughed. Koz choked. Pitch's hands were rubbing up and down Jack's arms and Koz was suddenly flaring with jealousy and confusion. Pitch was his. Pitch had drove that home for decades. Koz was Pitch's they were a pair and Pitch wanted him first, but Pitch was fickle. Koz wanted Jack too in a sudden rush of need, but Pitch had Jack, Jack was Pitch's new….

Koz made a strangled noise he cut off quickly as he retreated and let himself fall back into the chair. This was too much. He knew Pitch was fickle, he'd had passing fancies before. But Pitch had chosen him first and forced a them together, relentlessly made the pair of them one. Now this? Koz put a hand across his eyes.

He didn't know what he was expecting with this new infatuation Pitch seemed to have. He figured it would blow over, Pitch would lose interest, come back to him, complete their whole again. But now, now that he saw Jack, that waif of white, he knew it was no passing fancy. Pitch wanted to keep the boy, to have him live with them, to change their lives so irrevocably to fit around a human. Pitch had long term plans for this, and Koz didn't know where he fit in. Pitch was so fickle…

A warm hand was on his cheek. A human hand. Koz gasped, a second hand pried his fingers from his eyes. The pair of them were over him, Pitch had a grim set to his mouth, Jack's brow furrowed in worry.

"Are you alright?" Jack asked.

"Apologies," Koz croaked.

"He'll be fine, he's just stunned by how pretty you are," Pitch chimed in, but there wasn't much humor in his voice.

"I'll...I'll be fine," Koz confirmed. Jack wasn't convinced.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked as he boldly climbed right on top of Koz' lap. Jack was young, but only because Koz and Pitch were incredibly old. Truthfully, he didn't look that much younger than Koz himself, something like mid twenties. Pitch had turned when he was barely thirty and Koz a few years after. They didn't look inappropriate, but any relationship with a human always was… How could Pitch do this to him?

"Nothing is wrong." Koz spoke quietly and courteously placed his hands on Jack's sides to prevent him from falling, nothing else.

"Am I so gorgeous that I knock you from your feet? Pitch did something similar when we met," Jack said, a smile on his lips again. His face was devastating for Koz, it was way too close.

Pitch perched a hip on the arm of Koz' chair and leaned in to rest his cheek in Koz' hair so they both faced Jack. Pitch's arm slung over Koz' far shoulder and his other hand came up and brushed fingers across Jack's cheek.

"Can we keep him, Koz?" Pitch asked. Jack laughed again, Koz couldn't see what was even remotely funny about this.

He became acutely aware that these two had already built a relationship. They had time and encounters he knew almost nothing about. Jack knew moments of Pitch that Koz would never see, how many more would the future hold? His frown deepened but he managed to say, "If you want him Pitch, who am I to stop you?"

"We. Koz, we. Ours. Jack is ours." Pitch said, his hand falling from Jack's face to press against Koz' still heart. Koz closed his eyes, he was apprehensive.

"Pitch had asked me about it last week," Jack chimed in. "I'm going to grad school at NYU still, but I'm almost done. Pitch has spoken a lot about you. I wouldn't mind. We could trial run for a few months to see if you'd like me enough to stay. It's unconventional, but I think it will be fun. I have a job, I can chip in on rent and everything. I also thought it would be useful for you… You know, because I can run errands during the day and stuff-"

"But you're mine," Koz whispered faintly under Jack's monologue that was starting to become a ramble. Jack stopped and looked to Pitch.

"Yes, and you are mine." Pitch confirmed, his hand going from Koz' chest to his cheek, his thumb swiping across his lower lip. "And we will be Jack's and Jack will be _ours_."

"Ours."

"Ours." Pitch confirmed.

"Yeesh. You two are mushy."

"Only Koz is. He's very weak minded. I have to reassure him all-HEY!" Pitch squawked as Koz elbowed him off the chair. He stumbled back a step but then straightened and smoothed down his rumbled sweater.

"Anyways," Pitch spoke again. "We didn't come here to mope all night. I'm thirsty, and Jack will want to be able to enjoy his dinner uninhibited when it arrives."

"What did you order?" Jack asked as he removed himself from Koz' lap.

"Steak."

"Of course you did." Jack said sarcastically as he crossed the room to sit in the middle of the couch.

"What would you have prefered?" Koz asked, sitting up a little straighter now that he was alone.

"I don't know. Anything. All Pitch can think of is steak."

Koz finally found a smile at his lips. "Yes, Pitch is rather bland with his diet. Usually. It seems he found a rare delicacy this time. But, if you want to abide with us I am quite fond of the culinary arts."

"You cook?" Jack asked eagerly.

"It would be my pleasure to serve you." Koz leaned forward in the chair, surprised that Pitch's reassurance had helped him to so profoundly adapt his view of the situation. Jack was...alluring, Pitch was right. And Pitch was still his. No one would be discarded for a new toy - his mind logically knew this, his feelings would catch up with time. They were already almost there.

"Pitch, I think I might like him better, he can cook."

Instead of getting jealous, like Koz might have expected of himself, Pitch languidly reclined on the couch beside Jack and smiled as he tugged Jack onto his lap. "He is a wonder with food. He will make your blood taste delicious."

Jack giggled and tilted his head to the side slightly, baring his neck for Pitch. "Isn't it already delicious?"

"I don't know. I forget, I have to remind myself." Pitch cooed as his one arm wrapped around Jack's waist and the other hooked under his arm to run fingers across Jack's neck.

They were so...comfortable that Koz felt his jealousy spike again. It was rather novel still, the familiarity that humans developed with vampires over the recent years. Not even one hundred years before had them screaming in the streets and hoarding silver. Now, there were nightclubs for donors to meet vampires, to get paid for their blood.

Koz watched as Jack relaxed in Pitch's arms, as Pitch licked at his neck, brought his eyes up and locked them with his own. He watched as Pitch bit down into Jack's flesh, still keeping his eyes on Koz as red welled up against his lips, as he licked it and didn't let a single drop get away.

Jack sighed and winced slightly as Pitch shifted underneath him. His crystal blue eyes, perfectly clear and coherent, blinked open and he too looked straight at Koz. Jack lifted an arm and waved at Koz to come over.

He couldn't help but comply; the scene before him was too beautiful to leave alone.

Koz approached and stood over the pair. His one hand trailed fingers up Jack's cheek and into his snow-white hair. "It must hurt," Koz said lowly.

"It feels good," Jack replied, Pitch quiet on his neck.

"You're beautiful."

"Where would you like to bite?" Jack asked instead, brushing off the compliment. Koz still saw his cheeks flush red. He imagined Jack's blush would be darker if he weren't being drained as he did it. He thought he'd like to see how red Jack could get, his pale skin so transparent.

"Where would you like me?" Koz asked as he kneeled on the couch on Jack's other side.

"Anywhere is fine."

"Then, here." Koz lifted Jack's arm and brought Jack's wrist to his lips. He licked as his skin, tasting the salt, feeling his pulse in his tongue.

"How courteous of you." Jack smiled. Pitch hummed and looked at Koz again.

"One of us needs manners." Koz said as he smiled against Jack's wrist.

Pitch grumbled something into Jack's neck, Koz knew it was a retort of dissent, but his fangs were still within the boy so his tongue was gratefully silenced. Jack still laughed at the action anyways, squirmed slightly in the pain of the fangs shifting in his flesh.

Koz bit down while Jack laughed, using the distraction to ease the surprise. Warm liquid ambrosia burst against his tongue. Koz couldn't help his moan. It was good. Already perfect. Heat and life and joy all in one. His eyes fluttered closed and he held the wrist tighter. Gods below it was good.

His tongue lapped around his fangs to make sure not a drop dripped away. It was intoxicating, he could tell that Jack already was in prime physical condition, already ate healthily, his blood sang his perfection. He groaned again and Jack shifted in his hands, squirmed.

He immediately drew his teeth out and looked up at Jack, concerned. Was he in too much pain? "Are you alright, Jack?"

Pitch pulled his lips away and his brow creased.

"Oh gods." Jack breathed as he shifted again in Pitch's arms, against Koz' side. "Y-yeah, I'm good. I'm….great," Jack whispered. He let his wounded arm lay limp within Koz' grasp still but his other hand came up and scrubbed through his hair. His face was flushed in that gorgeously weak attempt at a blush.

"What's wrong?"

Jack's hand came down and covered his eyes, just like how Koz did earlier, but Koz watched as his ears turned red as well, as blood began to trickle from the wounds on his neck and wrist. His heart was racing.

"Nothing-" Jack practically squeaked.

Pitch shifted his hand from Jack's waist to his heart and held it there. "Your heart is hammering, what happened?" He asked.

"Y-you...you guys," Jack mumbled and clutched at his face. "You happened." Jack squirmed again.

"Oh." Koz blinked and memories came back. "Oh! Oh yeah. Oh." He looked down and saw Jack's jeans taught and tented. "You have become aroused."

Jack actually laughed and his hand slid from his eyes to cover his mouth. "Oh my god, 'aroused'?"

"It's been a while." Koz protested.

"You don't-?"

"Get hard?" Koz asked. Jack nodded.

"No, we are undead. Our hearts do not beat, there is no blood within our veins to...get erect." Pitch answered this time, his arms around Jack only seemed to get tighter.

"Sorry…" Jack whispered, as if his hard on was somehow offensive.

"We get our rocks off on your blood," Pitch said crudely as he licked up the trickling blood on Jack's neck.

"Really?" Jack asked, finally removing his hand from his face. Pitch grabbed it within his own. "I thought it was just a food thing."

"Sometimes." Koz answered this time. He too licked up the blood threatening to drip from Jack's wrist. "All humans taste different, some like garbage, you? Like heaven."

Jack grinned at that, but his smile faltered as Koz laid a palm on his thigh. "Uh…"

"May I?" Koz asked.

"I uh...I dunno."

"He won't bite you. We've already fulfilled our bite quota." Pitch chimed in, his eyes blazing as they watched Koz' hand rest on Jack's jeans.

"Really? I mean...you really _want_ to?"

"Of course." Koz said as he gently laid Jack's bitten wrist down across his stomach and smoothly slid from the couch to the floor. He coaxed Jack's legs apart and moved between his knees. Both Jack and Pitch were watching him like hawks as he slid a hand up each of Jack's thighs. His fingers danced across the tight zipper of Jack's jeans and paused on the belt buckle.

"May I?" Koz asked.

"Wha?" Jack fumbled.

Pitch grinned widely and his other hand not clutching Jack's, slid down to rest overtop of Koz' on his belt. "He needs permission, Jack."

"Do you seriously?" Jack squeaked in embarassed humor.

"No, but I'd like it." Koz grinned in an equally fangy manner.

Jack just giggled breathlessly and said, "You may."

So, Koz proceeded to unbuckle Jack's belt. Pitch slid his hand back up Jack's stomach, hiking his shirt up with him to show off more pale skin. Their own washed out bronze skin almost looked alive against Jack's he was so pale.

Koz then undid his button and zipped his jeans open. Jack helpfully lifted his hips from Pitch's lap to let Koz ease his pants down. Koz did just that and hooked his thumbs in Jack's pants and underwear and shimmied them down his hips a few inches to rest just low enough that Jack could still keep his legs spread. Jack didn't dare to move letting Koz' hands, warmed by his own blood flowing through them, free him from his briefs.

Jack's cock stood at attention flushed dark with blood. Koz wondered if the boy was getting light headed from being drained and having an erection. The food coming would help. Regardless, he took Jack in hand and began to stroke. He paused as he could actually feel his pulse through his cock and squeezed.

Jack jumped from the pressure and Pitch hissed "Be careful with him!"

Koz bit his lip and frowned. "Sorry. It's been a while… like I said."

"How long is a while?" Jack asked, a bit concerned.

"Uh…"

"About a-"

"-couple-"

"-hundred years,"

"Give or take." The twins said together in a jumbled mess of embarrassment.

"Holy shit." Jack gasped. "How old are you two?"

" A couple hundred years-"

"Give or take," They said again. Pitch grinned slyly, Koz was more stoic.

"Oh my god," Jack said and then pulled his hand free from Pitch and brought both of them down to his flagging erection. "And you still want to do this?" he asked.

Pitch nodded against Jack's cheek and Koz agreed with a "Yes, if you'll have me."

"Ok…" Jack breathed and opened his palms. "Ok, here. Give me your hands. I'll show you."

Koz placed his hands within Jack's. Pitch just wrapped his own arms around Jack's torso and hugged him tight to watch.

"Like this," Jack said as he wrapped Koz's fingers around his cock, enveloping the larger darker hands with his own. Koz let Jack move his fingers up and back down against him, pressing in with his own to get just the right pressure. It didn't even take seconds of this action, guided by Jack to have the human shuddering out a shaky exhale.

"Good, yeah. Just like that," Jack whispered as his breath hitched. His grip was firmer on the upstroke, lighter on the down. Jack led his hand to rub over the head of him, his fingers encircling his cock. Jack then lead his other hand down the base of himself and into his pubic hair. Koz watched avidly as Jack's fingers intertwined with his own briefly then lead him lower underneath himself and to his balls. Koz' fingers were squeezed around Jack's balls and he took initiative to roll them in his palm.

Koz was a quick learner and Pitch looked ravenous as he groaned with Jack. A Jack who was the most gorgeous sight he had ever beheld as he came undone under his fingers. Blood and its ecstasy couldn't compare to the sight of this beautiful boy surrounded by his brother, making noises because of him.

Jack's hands faltered against Koz' but he didn't need them anymore. He let them fall away as Jack's control slipped. Koz kept up his actions as he stroked Jack, as precome beaded at his slit.

"More," Jack croaked.

Koz obliged and stroked faster, firmer, using Jack's own fluid as slight lubrication.

And quickly, Jack was tensing in front of him, twisting in Pitch's cage of an embrace. His eyes were closed and his mouth gaped open moving on voiceless words. Jack didn't cry out as he came, he gasped hoarsely sucking in a huge lungful of air as warmth splattered across his stomach and over Koz' hands. Koz stroked him through his orgasm, milking every last drop he could, completely fascinated and entranced by what he had caused.

The tension fled from Jack's frame a moment later and he collapsed back against Pitch, panting and gasping for breath. Pitch's fingers were on Jack's stomach an instant later scooping up his come and bringing it to his lips to lick clean.

Koz grinned as he did the same for his soiled hands, lapping up Jack's come reverently.

"Just as good as blood," Koz said as he licked the back of his hand.

"I think it's better," Pitch commented as his hand dipped back down for more.

"That's really gross," Jack gasped as he came down from his high.

"So, Koz," Pitch purred, "Its a good idea, don't you think?"

"I…" Koz stammered as he sat back and looked up at both of them from the floor. "Er, we. We will need to speak with Mr. Mansnoozie again, I think."


	17. Hate Sex

"S-stop!" Jack nearly shrieked as he laughed.

Pitch was practically curled around him, his legs locked around Jack's hips, his arms threaded under Jack's and around his back, hands in his hair. He kissed Jack fiercely upon the lips cutting off his giggle as he swallowed his cold breath.

"Pitch-" Jack tried to pull away but the lips came back and forced his mouth open and Pitch's hot tongue darted into his mouth, silencing him again.

Jack couldn't help his moan, the heat was delicious. He felt warm all over from Pitch clinging to him so. But, he had come here for a reason, they needed to talk, the two of them could cuddle in a minute but they needed-

Darkness reared up and Jack gasped in Pitch's warm breath as the pair of them fell through the shadows.

He had barely any time to shout in surprise as they re-emerged in the air and fell the few inches left into a pile of plush pillows. Candles flared to magical life and Jack found himself nearly suffocated by Pitch in his bedroom.

Jack pried Pitch's face from his own and held it back. "Christ, Pitch! We need to talk."

But, Pitch hugged him tighter and twisted his face from Jack's grip and latched onto the side of his jaw instead.

"Don't wanna talk," he mumbled against Jack's warming skin.

"But…" Jack tried.

"No buts. Later," Pitch said and captured his lips once again.

Jack grumbled audibly and shoved his head back again "No, we need-ah-" Pitch was stronger than Jack and forced his way back in. "Stop!" Jack tried, Pitch only grabbed his lower lip between his, "Oh my Go-" Another kiss.

"Calm down for a minute!" Jack gasped and threw his hand over his mouth. Pitch kissed the back of hand instead, but hey, at least he could talk this way. "I-I had to tell the Guardians. That we're seeing each other-nnnn-" Pitch forced his mouth against Jack's hand pressing it into Jack's mouth and cutting of his speech that way.

Jack grumbled and glared at Pitch. Pitch chuckled and pried his hand away to kiss him again. Jack just turned his head to the side and glared at a pillow instead, Pitch was being unreasonable.

Lips went to his jawline again and then up to Jack ear, he shivered slightly and Pitch shifted above him, untangling their legs to lie along Jack's side.

Pitch sighed and breathed against Jack's ear. "I know. I overheard. I stalk your shadow sometimes, when I can find it." Pitch confessed and hugged Jack closer to himself.

Jack turned his head to try and look at Pitch, only able to catch his face from the corner of his eye. "And?"

"And what?"

"Don't you have anything to say?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Their reactions were reasonable and well founded," Pitch grumbled and nibbled on Jack's earlobe petulantly. "But Sanderson gave you his blessing so the others will come around soon enough."

"He didn't, he was sleeping!" Jack protested, Pitch could tell he was upsetting himself.

"Precisely. When has the Sandman ever been asleep for unimportant issues?"

"O-oh..." Jack said, and the tension slowly fell from his body, Pitch hummed in pleasure.

"Besides, you don't need them, all you need to do is stay down here forever with me and let me kiss you instead. This 'talk' was needless, I could have been ravishing your body by this whole time if you'd just give up sooner."

"Hey!" Jack tried to protest, but his head was forced back to face Pitch and his lips were once again held captive by his.

"Stop!" Jack gasped, but opening his mouth was the wrong move as Pitch dove in and licked the roof of his mouth. Jack could help his laugh. He lost his mind for a minute and finally kissed Pitch back and wound his hands around Pitch's shoulders to hug him close. Jack groaned into the embrace.

But Pitch slid his knee between Jack's legs and the action snapped him back to reality. Jack pulled his head away and gasped for air then turned a weak glare back to his partner.

"That is underhanded!" His voice broke in his bluster. "Unfair! Sly and manipulative!"

"I know." Pitch grinned and licked the tip of Jack's nose.


	18. Erotic Asphyxiation - Author's Note

Hi guys, I'm sorry to do this, but this prompt has given me a hell of a lot of trouble and has knocked off my game for the rest of them! booooo i know! I'm sorry!

So i'm posting this little message as a place holder for this prompt so that I can keep my numbering for the rest of the prompts in good order.

Sorry about this! I'm posting the next one, Tentacles, right away so no worries, ok?

Thanks!  
& luv you all!

-Zin


	19. Tentacles

This….wasn't good.

Jack tumbled down a slope that fell loose with him in a cascade of pine needles. Picking himself up he darted through the quiet open forest floor. There was no cover here, the pine trees were monstrously huge and ancient, their immense bows and needles blocking out the light turning it a gloomy twilight, there was no underbrush to hide in. Where had the others gone?

The ground under his feet slowly started to shift from loamy needle debris to rocks, giant boulders poking up through the dirt, even larger trees splitting them with their roots. He had lost his caravan, they had been attacked.

A territorial tribe of winged folk had descended upon them, they had tried to take a shortcut through the forest to the main trade route – what a bad idea. Now, Jack couldn't hear the sound of another living thing, but he couldn't stop running. Sisters of flight were notoriously determined, and he didn't know where their territory line was.

Of all the rotten luck! North had been a brash fool, Jack was too young to sway his tribe leader, his father, out of the idea. If only they had stuck with the normal trade route, sure it would have taken a week of longer travel, but the merfolk on the coast weren't anticipating them early anyways! Sandy and his kin were the only reason to come this far south anyways, they would have waited patiently!

Jack grumbled as he ran, smacking his staff against a rock every so often, marking it with his frost. If his family found a trace of it they would find him easily. They just had to…make it this far. Jack squashed down the guilt he felt for fleeing. North practically threw him from the fight demanding he go. Jack's magic was the most powerful out of all of theirs though! Giants couldn't do more than throw their weight around, but he had the cold! Those birds wouldn't have stood a chance!

In his carelessness, a jagged stone tripped Jack up and he went tumbling to the ground. His staff fell from his hand and he rolled to a halt.

"Just perfect!" He shouted into the silence, then gasped catching his fumble. Shit. He quietened immediately and trained his ears to the wind.

Nothing.

It was perfectly quiet, the dense pine trees interspersed with rocks dampened all sound, there wasn't even wind here. After a moment, Jack sucked in a breath and sat up.

Even better. His foot was bleeding. Great. Of all the deity-forsaken things that could happen now, he had cut his foot.

With more quiet swearing, Jack crawled to his staff and sat back leaning against a rock. He used his magic to ice up the cut between his big toe and sighed. This wasn't good. Not at all. Jack was lost in a strange forest, now injured, who knows how many miles from any sort of civilization, potentially still in angry bird territory – and without his family. He would hurt North when he found him again!

No…he knew he wouldn't. North had been a benediction. He had taken in the little anomaly that was Jack, a small creature abandoned in the snow – not even giant material. Had declared Jack his son, even if the kid would ever barely grow to waist height to any of their tribe, and taught him how to be a trader, a cunning businessman and skilled fighter. But, Jack was still young, North said. He was already one-hundred, already full grown apparently – brimming with magic and energy. But he was no giant. Wasn't a merperson like Sandy's people, not a Sister of flight like the ones who attacked them or Toothiana's peaceful tribe in the east. North said he never saw a thing like Jack, looking like a giant only half as tall, washed out white like the snow he came from.

Jack pulled his knees to his chest and hugged his staff between them. He couldn't stay here smelling like blood. Worgs would be out at night, and as much as his ice and cold were in his dominion he was still warm blooded and needed shelter. His foot was already numb, he'd have to crack his cast soon and make a fire and figure out some way to survive until he was found or he gathered a direction to travel in to find them.

Climbing to his feet, Jack finally noticed he was on a hill, he was going downhill previously, and the rocks below were spiking up into the air for meters, creating craigs and fissures, possible good cover. The dead pine needles all around would make a fire, and some of the younger pine trees had old branches he could reach.

Jack trudged downhill more carefully now, his foot clunky with ice. Rocks towered over him as he picked his way around them, through them, and over them using his staff for help and leverage.

Soon though, he found a path. A fairy trail possibly. He never messed with them, but when they had encounters in the past the fae always seemed to respect his magic and leave him and his to pass, hopefully the tradition held true.

Then, the path turned into hewn steps and a narrow cobbled walkway. Moss and lichen covered everything here, a low mist falling between the rocks – it had a mysterious feeling. It made the hair on the back of Jack's neck rise, but he continued onward. Maybe he could trade a magic deed with the kin in the forest for sanctuary.

That idea was short lived as Jack passed under an ancient stone archway and found himself in a grand clearing open to the stars that were just starting to peak out in the twilight. The massive pine trees ringed the clearing like sentinels and in the middle a towering temple rivalled them in height. Well, crumbling height. The thing was ridiculously overgrown. Grass and low shrubbery littered the surrounding meadow and thick vines wound up upon the stone of the huge building slowly turning the rocks in their grip to dust.

Jack marveled at it, never having seen such a tall structure made before. No one he ever knew crafted like this – North would label this a relic from a past eon. He sometimes spoke of the people and religions of old, how they built colonies going up from nothing to reach the skies they could never touch. This had to be one of those, it was so grand.

Jack approached the temple, it looked adequately abandoned. It would house him generously for the night, he could find a cozy nook and build a fire – somewhere high and protected from the weather and whatever creatures made it home now. There was no sign of birds or worgs as he picked his way through the overgrown path, the magic here was ominous but it didn't ring of recent use. The very air felt old and unused.

Jack picked up dead branches as he walked, gathered up few dried leaves and some grass to help with his fire.

The entrance of the temple was huge, flanked on both sides by twisting pillars that resembled the vines winding around them, they looked organic, like the knots of rope or the eels Sandy offered them to eat. Oh. Jack's eyes followed their lined up and saw they were capped with the heads of hissing snakes. They were snakes. Was this a temple in worship of snakes? Odd.

Tucking his kindling under one arm, Jack stepped into the gloom of the temple. He lit his staff with his magic to light his way, the blue glow of his ice casting eerie shadows. He had half a mind to climb a tree for the night at this rate. If not for needing to tend to his foot he would have done so.

The entrance lead directly into a huge expanse of a room, The ceiling was so high it disappeared into the darkness, pillars lining down each side in the same snake motif. In the center of the room was a massive statue. It was…well it was half crumbled, but Jack could make out that it was some sort of…snake merman.

The great thing's lower serpentine half coiled and twisted up into the torso a thing…looking more like Jack than a Giant or a Merman. They were always thick, round, or bulkily muscular, the statue was toned and thin, it's right half in ruins. The left arm of the monolith reached up into the air and Jack blinked when he saw the stone hand met by another. It was so dark up there, but Jack could just make out, as he approached, that a mirror statue the same gigantic size hung inverted from the ceiling. The hand of the partner statue cupped over the upheld one forming a dias, Jack could see a pedestal held in the palm from where he stood on the ground.

That would…be a great place to spend the night actually, maybe a little breezy, but definitely hard to get to with a good vantage point. It was pretty warm here so Jack didn't need too much cover, he was used to much colder weather. He just needed to figure out how to get up there with a lame foot…

The sound of falling crumbling rocks caught his ear. Jack stopped everything going stock still as he listened. Minutes went by, all he hear was wind through the open temple. Creepy.

He decided to try and hurry to get up there. Quickly, he undid the straps from his calves and used them to secure his kindling and staff in a bundle to sling over his shoulders. He then began to circle the coils of the snake god statue to find the best way up.

Scales were detailed into the statue's hide and as Jack clambered up meter high coils he found that the back of the thing had a ridged spine, vertebrae poking out in blunt scaled spikes down it's back. Well, they were huge, but it was an ok ladder.

He followed the tail up to where its scales turned to smoothed stone skin and leapt onto the top of the spike at the base of its spine. The next spike up was an easy jump and Jack scrambled on top of it, then leapt to the next. The air felt stifling as he climbed higher, but he kept going, wanting to get off the ground and away from anything potentially dangerous.

Which, in retrospect, was the dumbest idea of his life. Jack leapt to the next spike, and then everything happened horrifyingly quickly. He scrambled to the top of the spike, but the rock cracked at his toes. He managed to scramble with a shout onto the shards of the remaining rock as the rest fell to the ground now meters below with a resoundingly loud crash. Jack gasped and tried to get up to jump to the next spike before his tiny perch crumbled away, but a rolling crack of thunder shook the very foundations of the temple.

Jack was disoriented as he scrambled upright trying to remind himself that the sky was clear when he came inside there was no storm approaching, he'd feel it! But all rational thought fled him as a massively warm vice wrapped around him and yanked him from the statue. Jack couldn't help his shriek.

"You ant of a deity! How dare you deface my relic!" A booming sinister voice rattled Jack's brain. He panicked – the statue came to life! He was gripped in the dark palm of a giant snake monster, and it was going to crush him to death or eat him or or or – Jack shouted again and lashed out with his magic, icing the massive hand gripping him.

The massive thing hissed angrily as it released him and Jack fell to his certain doom – except, instead, he landed in something else warm and soft. Twisting to the side he made to roll off whatever it was, it certainly wasn't stone – it was definitely alive and it was huge - but he didn't make it far as a second giant hand caged him into the palm he landed on. The fingers pressed in and he was flattened to the palm. He desperately tried to ice it again, to free himself, but the hands entrapping him shook him violently in response, rattling his brain and disrupting his magic.

"We have a tiny blizzard on our hands." Another voice sounded – it didn't seem so huge and like certain death.

"P-please let me go! I'm sorry! I meant no trespass against you!" Jack cried.

"Meant no trespass?" The first voice sounded, it seemed much closer, definitely sinister. "You do exactly that, then vandalize my last tribute! How dare you! Kozmotis would do you a mercy to press the life right out of you for this!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't know! Please-" Jack could feel hot tears on his cheeks, rubbed into the skin of the palm he laid in.

"Ah, you've scared him."

"Of course! It is what I do! What shall we do with him?"

"Anything! I'll do anything – spare my life – I'm s-sorry!" Jack cried and squirmed in the pressure of the hands pressing him flat.

The hand on top of him lifted just a bit, and Jack found himself jostled till he looked up at great glowing eyes peering down at him through a small opening cracked between the god's thumbs.

"What is your name, tiny god?" The one holding him asked, his massive forked tongue flicking out, his fangs as long as Jack was tall, glinting in the light of their own eyes.

"J-Jack Frost…God?" He couldn't help but ask even as he trembled.

"What's a little pest like you doing so far south?" The darker of the two asked venomously.

Jack wanted desperately to hug his staff to himself, but it was still trapped on his back. "I-I uh, I'm l-lost," he stammered, "My family was attacked by birds and we scattered and I'm lost and all I was doing was looking for shelter I swear it! I meant no disrespect! I thought the temple was empty!"

"We aren't quite wasted away yet, little blizzard. How unfortunate for you."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry – I'll leave and never come back, please just let me go – I need to find my family."

"So there is a team of gods in our territory? How dare they trespass, they will know the fear of night once more-" The darker growled out, Jack could hear stones crashing and breaking as his tail whipped in anger.

"G-gods?! No! No, they aren't anything! We are giants! Just giants trading at the ocean!"

"Giants?" The golden one holding him laughed, Jack felt it in the palm holding him. "You are no giant, Jack Frost. You are a deity of winter."

"Wuh-" Jack stammered completely confused.

"You wield your divinity and yet know this not?" the hand lifted into the air, the huge face of the snake god holding him coming closer. Jack made out the details of him in the gloom, lifted slightly by the light of his eyes. He had rich bronzed skin, a broad flat nose, his pupils slitted, his tongue flicking out every so often. His hair was black and held back with gold adornments, his pointed ears pierced with gold finery – it all looked terribly tarnished.

The face of the other god shoved into Jack's view, the hand covering him from the top falling away to cup Jack within both palms. The darker one, with what Jack suspected to gray colored skin, flicked his tongue out at Jack, nearly licking him. Jack flinched away.

"Oh, he smells of mortal. You've fallen quite low, haven't you, tiny storm." The dark one said, a wicked curl uplifting his lips in a smile.

"M-mo- what. What are you talking about – I – I'm not. My Name's Jack – "

"You don't remember?"

"Oh dear."

"How curious."

"Remember? I – I…no, No I don't but that doesn't matter, I just – I just need to go and find my father and leave and get back safely and – please let me go?"

"How selfish of you demanding this without offering anything in return." The dark one hissed, still smiling. He seemed much less murderous now, Jack wasn't sure if that was an improvement.

"I don't have anything to offer?" Jack protested. He felt the adrenaline of his fear melting away in their more civil conversation, too bad his nerves haven't come back. He was literally at the mercy of two giant snake monsters who claimed to be gods, held in their palms like a toy.

"You have yourself." A gray clawed finger appeared out of nowhere and rubbed Jack's hair, forcing his head to the side with its easy strength. Jack shoved it from himself as gently as he could trying not to offend, but not really wanted to be touched.

"That would steal my freedom and make whatever deal possible irrelevant." Jack frowned.

The golden one smiled now too. "He is right."

The gray one tsked and shoved Jack over on his side before retreating and looking away. "He has nothing else, what good is a puny god like that anyways?"

Jack picked himself back up, sitting cross legged and smoothed down his hair. "I uh…All I have is my magic, I can do a deed for you maybe?"

"Ah." The gold one said, the gray one turned back and looked at his mirror self, a different kind of light sparking in their eyes. "I have a desire."

He looked at his partner, the darker nodded and Jack watched as he closed his eyes, cutting off the light from them and disappeared in his entire monstrosity completely.

"Come, We may discuss this more comfortably." The one holding Jack said.

And before he could say a thing, to even think of protesting, the dim world around him shuttered into darkness and he was pressed through an indescribable void.

Gasping for breath, Jack didn't even register that he was in reality again as he fell to his knees, dizzy. It was light here, warm and glowing, but he could barely take in his surroundings before a pair of hands hoisted him back to his feet, and then rested upon his shoulders.

He spun around to face whoever it was and was met with, oh moons. The two snake monsters – lamia, he recalled - were right there. They were, however, a much less intimidating normal size. Not that two probably eight meter long snake men were ever not intimidating, really. They were still big compared to Jack, he reckoned their hand spans could wrap around his waist easily.

He was right in assuming the darker one was gray skinned, his skin faded into the smooth black scales of his long tail, his underbelly nearly as golden as his eyes. The golden one had a tail of sharper dark copper and gold scales with mottled black underbelly scales, and this was all a bit much.

Jack took a startled step back and quickly yanked his staff from his back, finally able to do so, while all of the twigs and debris he gathered to start a fire fell, clattering around his feet.

The dark one hissed in distaste. "Storms always kick up dirt. How uncivil." He turned and slid off to the side, flopping unceremoniously into an extravagant mess of pillows. Jack's mouth fell open as he watched his tail slither around and pluck a golden goblet from a low table and bring it to the monster's lips to sip.

"No need to fear anymore, Jack Frost." The golden one said, and gestured him over to the pillows as he slithered to join his twin in them. "If we come to an accord all will be well, and I think you will come to like my desire."

Jack gaped and watched as the naga's golden tail wrapped around the handle of a golden carafe and poured an amber liquid into another goblet. He slowly approached finally taking in the lavish room the gods had apparently teleported him into.

It was vast behind them, the trio occupied a cozy alcove separated by draping sheer fabric from the rest of the hall. Jack couldn't make out much of the larger open area behind him for the fabric, but he noted how braziers of fire were mounted to the stone block and plastered walls, how there were grand arching windows open to the air save for the intricately wooden shutters painted in rich colors and inlaid with golden designs. Jack smelled incense in the air as well. Overall it was the fanciest lounge he had ever found himself in – the merpeople catered in lovely gazebos on the coast, but most of his life was spent in animal skin tents with the giants as they roamed nomadically.

Jack took a tentative step closer and the golden naga's tail tipped up in front of him presenting him with a goblet of the dark liquid. Jack hesitantly took it and the tail curled back into the pillows, the man had a drink of his own already, and sipped it, watching Jack.

Jack knelt at the edge of the pillows, holding his goblet with both hands and looked at the pair of them as they relaxed back into the pillows. "Who are you?"

The dark one choked. The golden one frowned.

"Wh-who-" The gray naga stuttered and before he could get up, his partner held him back with a palm.

"It has been eons since we were worshiped, brother. It should be of little surprise a new god knows us not – one who does not even know himself for that fact." He placated his twin. "I am Kozmotis, God of light. He is Pitch, God of darkness."

"And fear and the night, the moon!" Pitch, finally named grumbled, and huffed while downing his drink and crossing his arms over his mostly bare chest (his dark jewelry leaving barely anything covered).

"But the God in the moon?" Jack asked.

"He is lord of the tides and swayer of seasons. Your sire."

"M-my…"

"Little blizzard, You are the new embodiment of winter. And fortune favors us that you have fallen into our debt." Koz said, and lifted his glass in toast, which Jack did not reciprocate.

"Look at this blithering idiot. If this is what immortality is destined to become I'd rather fade with our last believer."

"Hush, Pitch. We work to prevent this. Jack will help."

"I don't see how – "

"You will rear for us winters the likes of which have not been known in centuries." Koz said matter-of-factly. Jack felt his face go slack, stunned.

"The cold has been mild, it has been preparing for you. People will pray for survival, the darkness of storms will render them desperate for the light, the coming blazing summer will make them pray for cool nights."

"That's all well and good for you, but I've never made more than a frozen lake." Jack set his goblet down and stood up. "I'm not some god; this winter you speak of. I'm not immortal, or powerful. I'm an orphan found in the snow! I'm a short giant and nothing else! So I have some magic but it's useless! No one needs cold or ice! I've worked more to keep it in than anything else!" Jack shouted and flung his hand out, gesticulating and upset.

Pitch responded first and lifted upright, towering over Jack. "You are what we speak. Mortal crops have been in decline for decades, their husbandry less and less each year! Populations dwindle and without disciples and followers we do as well!"

Jack couldn't fight or retreat as Pitch's tail whipped out of nowhere and cinched around his neck. He gasped, surprised and frightened, dropping his staff to claw and grip at the scales slowly constricting in.

"You are winter, no matter how daft in the head you may be and you will call it in or you shall die here and well shall wait another eon for the next godling to be born!"

"Pitch!" Kozmotis shouted and shoved his brother to the side startling him enough to release Jack.

Jack who fell to the floor, coughing for air and trembling.

Koz' hand rested on Jack's shoulder to try and coax him up, Jack immediately slapped it away.

"No!" Jack croaked. "I won't make storms and kill just so you can gain a new religion!" He sat up and scooted away, glaring. "I have been on this soil for a hundred years! They do not need such harshness and violence I will not do it." Jack held his ground, grabbing for his staff once more and holding it defensively.

Koz opened his arms and lowered back down, closer to Jack's height. "Then what would you have us do? We waste away." Pitch fumed behind him.

"I – " Jack stopped and his face fell. He…he didn't know. "I don't know. I don't know what you do, I am not like you. I have no believers – if you say I'm a god. I have nothing yet I am still here."

"You do have believers." Pitch muttered, refusing to look at Jack.

"What?" Jack asked.

"You do." Koz said. "We know, we feel them. You have a family."

Jack stopped, clenched a fist into his shirt. "I-…but they aren't my_real_ family…"

"That matters not. They love you, they believe in you. We are closer to family to you than they are, and I can feel your influence even widespread. You have believers in the ocean and the skies, in the mountains and deserts." Koz smiled and closed his eyes, "Especially in the deserts. You are the god of snow cones?"

Jack choked, finding his throat tight and eyes hot. "B-but…but,_they_aren't my family. They are…they are just people I've met and made friends with…?"

Pitch scoffed. "Some no-name brat has more believers than we, combined."

Koz laughed and looked at his brother, a self-deprecating sound that made Jack's heart ache. And then it clicked. Jack scrambled to his feet and pointed at the pair of monstrous snake gods.

"I have a better idea," he said.

The two of them looked at him, Koz' eyes round and almost supplicatingly painful, Pitch's narrowed in wary disbelief.

"Come with me." Pitch scoffed and twisted to the side going for the carafe of alcohol again, Jack just smiled. He was starting to think Pitch was only scary to be contrary. "Get out of this stuffy decrepit temple and travel with me and my family! We'll make you a family of your own. I have more believers than you in just a hundred years, think of all the believers you will have in no time at all!"

Kozmotis tapped a claw at his lower lip and looked to his brother. "Pitch." He said flatly, and Pitch hunched over the table and poured his drink sourly. "Pitch, I think I want to."

"I refuse! It's a stupid idea." Pitch grumped without looking towards Koz, who grinned all fangs.

"We accept you offer, Tiny Storm." Koz said turning to Jack smiling.

"It's Jack Frost." Jack retorted but couldn't help his own lips lifting, pleased.

"Alright, Jack. How about we find your family?"

"Our family."


	20. Sadomasochism

Hey all! This prompt fill is set in the universe of my long fic, Waiting for You, so if its a bit confusing that's why! Sorry for the switcheroo! most of the rest will be au's, rest assured!

* * *

Everything devolved into fists.

The pair of them were in a jungle of all places, the trees were thick, the morning light that should be peaking over the horizon completely irrelevant under the thick canopy. On Jack's right a wide swath of trees were felled by precise clean cuts, they leaned against their still upright brethren, dim light actually able to peek through from the destruction.

Plants were ripped up everywhere, things were already starting to turn to mush as the ice on them thawed. Drips of melting icicles blended in with the constant dripping of the forest, the humidity oppressive.

Jack was soaked, his frost sliding from his skin as soon as it formed. His hoodie lay somewhere forgotten as it weighed him down significantly. His staff was discarded, the wood kept slipping from his fingers; he'd take Pitch out the old fashioned way.

Jack darted to the side, dodging a shapeless bludgeon of darkness and skipped away to the clearing.

Pitch was in no better state, though he was still clothed. Cuts and scrapes adorned his skin, his shadowy clothing hanging in half tatters. Pitch wasn't even bothering to repair it, he was so engrossed in the fight, so exhausted. It was almost morning, they were almost done, a draw would be unacceptable.

Jack heaved for breath as he found a slim shaft of light. His blood ran in rivulets down his arms, mixing with his sweat and ice and the condensation of the air that made him feel like he was swimming. The water that beaded on his skin was like an attack by the very forest, the humidity seemed drawn to him, sticking to his cold skin, never letting up. It stung his eyes, and his hair was practically plastered to his skull.

Pitch was a sweaty mess too, but he had far less obstacles for keeping his shadows intact than Jack did with his ice.

So fists it would be.

Pitch tumbled into the small clearing, growling as he rushed Jack.

Jack swiped Pitch's fist to the side and sharply jabbed the man in the stomach. He stumbled backwards and sand swirled into Pitch's palm as a small blade. Pitch lunged back in, and as Jack tried to dodge to the side, he slipped in the mud and fell to one knee, the shadow knife nicking his upper arm.

Jack swore and spun his leg in a low circular kick from the ground, swiping Pitch's feet out from underneath him. Pitch crashed down into the undergrowth with Jack, and Jack seized the short window to leap onto Pitch's chest.

His arm shot to his neck and he gripped down hard.

"I win." Jack puffed out, winded.

"Never!" Pitch croaked back, his long legs twisting him to the side, toppling Jack off of him.

The pair rolled through underbrush, hands trying to get a grip on each other, sliding off, or shoved to the side. Pitch got a shot in at Jack's eye, cutting open his brow, Jack socked him hard in the jaw, hopefully fracturing it.

A knee came up hard into Jack's ribs, but he refused to let go, he pulled at Pitch's hair the man snarling in his face. Jack made a move to end the fight quickly, darting in to bite at Pitch's neck like an animal, but as his teeth found skin he got too cocky and was instantly thrown off his target.

Jack growled and made to get up, but Pitch was right on top of him and Jack was pinned. He flailed as one of Pitch's hands pressed into his shoulder, the other gripping his jaw, both of Pitch's knees hugging into Jack's hips, his feet curled over his thighs pinning his legs. Jack gripped at his arms, digging his blunt nails in.

"Give up!" Pitch panted, Jack bared his teeth and spit.

Pitch tightened his grip, digging his nails into the joint of Jack's jaw.

"I'll make you give up." Blood seeped around the tips of his nails as he broke the skin near Jack's ears. All Jack could do was glare and twitch his head to the side, like hell he'd give up! His mouth was held shut, pain dug into the sides of his head, he hissed at Pitch.

Who drug his hand from Jack's bare shoulder, scraping his claws into his pale skin, turning it red, watching it raise in his wake. Jack hissed again and tensed trying to find any leverage to throw Pitch as the man dug his nails in harder, breaking skin causing blood to seep out. He pulled on Pitch's arms, trying to pry them off of himself, but Pitch was always stronger, Jack could barely get a grip their skin was both so slippery. The shadows on Pitch's clothing did nothing to help, it was like they actively removed any friction Pitch had for Jack to grip and his fingers scrabbled over the torn fabric.

Jack bared his teeth and gasped for breath through them as he brought his fingers to try and rip Pitch's hand from his face. This only prompted him to grip his mouth tighter, and Jack felt his teeth grind together. He shouted through his teeth and scratched at Pitch's hand, but his blunt nails did nothing.

Pitch just laughed. A dangerous spark lit in his eyes and Jack's own widened out of his glare. He gasped as he felt a stab of pain in his chest and shifted as much as he could to see Pitch digging a nail into his skin, pushing his claw in. Jack scraped at Pitch's hand on his face more desperately; another claw broke his skin and pressed in.

He shouted again, and writhed under Pitch's weight, trying to lift his knees, hips, anything to get some momentum. A third sharp nail dug in. The pain wasn't overmuch, nothing he hadn't had worse of, but the manner he received it was completely different. Pitch was above him, his breath puffing in and out in great gusts, his eyes fixated on the damage he was doing, his teeth bared. He looked transfixed, he didn't look present at all.

Jack finally got a grip on the hand and used both of his to pry Pitch away from his jaw, feeling his skin rip as the claws were forced out. Immediately Jack gasped in great lungfuls of air, his mouth wide open, he glared again, angry.

"Pitch-!" Jack shouted, but the hand he had in both of his pushed down with all of Pitch's strength and body weight and found new purchase on Jack's neck. He choked, Pitch's long fingers curling around his throat.

Jack bucked underneath him, his anger and adrenaline from the fight quickly melting away to desperation. Pitch curled his fingers in Jack's flesh with both hands, breaking the skin on his neck and pulling at the muscle in his grip on Jack's chest. He felt the claws in his skin shift and cried out with the little air he could suck in behind that restricting hand.

This was wrong, Jack thought hysterically as he could feel the strength in his own hands start to waver. This pain was all wrong. It didn't feel anything like good or worthy. He didn't feel alive for it, this wasn't making a good memory. Where did it go wrong? They were having fun before! It was so much fun! They tumbled through the brush and it was exhilarating!

Pitch pulled at his skin, ripping open the punctures he made, Jack shouted and a tremble started in his shoulders, down his neck. He didn't like this. This needed to stop – Pitch needed to stop! Why was he doing this? Why did he change? He'd never been this way before, not even in the beginning – this felt like torture. _Torture_.

Jack's stomach twisted, he felt nauseous, He couldn't breathe, couldn't move. The heat was oppressive and water condensed all over him, he felt his body chill in a sudden surge of panic. His face didn't feel hot, it felt pressured as his circulation was cut off. His fingers failed him and his breath failed him, but his fear surged forth as he was held down.

Things were turning fuzzy around the edges, but Jack saw the expression on Pitch's face shift, his pupils dilate. He could see as Pitch's mouth fell open, stunned, and he looked down finally _seeing_ Jack, seeing his hands red with blood, his fingers deep into Jack's flesh.

Air surged back into his lungs as Pitch recoiled and fell off of Jack as if he were punched in the face. Jack's chest heaved, his hand coming to his neck holding it, a palm going over his chest pressing at the seeping wounds there. He twisted to the side, rolling onto his shoulder as coughs interrupted the air he so desperately was gasping back into himself. He felt his heart kickstart into a rabbit thump, knew his blood flowed more easily from his many wounds. His head spun, high from the lack of air and more so from the resurgence of it.

Pitch might've said something, but Jack couldn't hear over the pounding in his head, a headache coming on fast. A moment later, a warmth touched at his shoulder blade. Fingertips. He flinched away with an aborted cry, his knees coming up to his chest protectively.

He was so warm, the air was too warm, he couldn't freeze anything, nothing was cold he wanted cold, where was his staff? This was too much, he felt disoriented, things only just slowed their spinning.

What happened.

What had gone wrong.

Jack's mind spun as he remembered in the wake of breathing properly again. He lost, he lost the duel. Pitch won, had beat him. It wasn't fair, Pitch played dirty, he lost because they weren't fighting anymore, he wasn't fighting – couldn't fight. He couldn't fight back, Jack couldn't defend himself, he was at the mercy of violence and had no way out, torture. He was tortured.

His stomach rolled in on itself, and Jack was retching through coughs. He twisted to his elbows and knees and vomited nothing but water into the mud, not even able to fathom why it wasn't frozen, why he wasn't frozen – because Pitch had hurt him.

"-ck?" Pitch's voice was quiet, barely discernable from the cacophony of forest sounds hammering at Jack's ears.

A heat hotter than the dense air got close to Jack, Pitch was going to try and touch him again. Jack whipped an arm out blindly from his huddle on the ground with a shout "-Back! Get back!" He croaked, feeling a tremble start in his spine again.

"Jack."

"Don't! Don't you touch me, Pitch, I swear to god!" Jack yelled with his head bowed into his forearms, his forehead in the mud.

"Your…Fear, Jack. Your fear – I…," Pitch spoke from a short distance Jack couldn't see.

"Shut up. Shut-" Jack coughed again, feeling close to throwing up once more, but there was nothing in him to expel.

"Are you ok?"

"No! No I'm not Okay! I'm Not-" Jack shouted again, his fingers clawing into his scalp, pulling on his dirtied wet hair. "My staff, where is my staff?"

"Over, over there." Pitch's voice sounded timid, Jack would be amazed if he were calm.

"Bring me, give me. Get my staff! I need my staff – If you've broken it I won't forgive you! I won't, I won't do it! How dare you, how _dare you_!" Jack moaned as he huddled back down small. He babbled uselessly, Pitch said something and Jack heard the scramble of him getting up and running off to wherever. It was getting light out now, the sounds of the animals in the jungle, the sound of rain, dripping, creaking wood, flapping of wings, a buzz of insects discerned themselves to him. It became less of a white noise and Jack could pick out recognizable things, he concentrated on them, on his breathing, on calming down. Breathe, in and out, in and out.

Pitch wasn't near, he was taking a while, and Jack cleared his mind in his absence, coming back to reality, feeling himself already begin to heal in the heat, missing his cold. That had happened. What just happened had happened. Pitch had, Pitch had tortured him, the thought made him queasy again, he forced it down. He didn't give up the fight but he was pinned, he should have given up – Pitch wouldn't have done what he did if he had just given up – no. No. Pitch was wrong, he had no right. That pain wasn't fun, he crossed the line.

Jack had been vulnerable to him, in front of him, plenty of times before. It never lead to that. Why did Pitch do that?

A coldness touched on the back of Jack's upturned foot. He still flinched.

It disappeared and Jack whipped his head up, immediately missing the comforting chill. There was Pitch, a few feet from Jack's side holding his staff out in one hand.

Shuddering a breath, Jack pushed himself upright, sitting on his knees and held his hand out for his staff. Pitch handed it over earnestly like he couldn't wait to get rid of it. Jack's brow scrunched in confusion, but the delightful chill snaking up his arms had him forgetting everything for a moment and he hugged the staff to his bared chest, pressing his cheek to the wood, getting as much contact with it.

He was exhausted from the fight, his energy low, but not depleted. He felt weak, but realized it was more due to the ordeal he just went through than from actually being fragile. His frost curled over his skin, freezing the mud, water, and blood as it went. His eyes closed and he couldn't help the whimper on his lips as the wounds Pitch inflicted with purpose froze over and under.

"Never again." Jack mumbled.

"What?" Pitch sounded almost devastated.

Jack opened his eyes and stared hard at Pitch. "Do you even get what you just did?"

"I-" Pitch was sitting facing Jack, his legs curled under himself indian style, his hands which were clean of blood now, on each knee. His expression was open, worried, upset.

"That was torture, Pitch." Jack ground out. "It was torture. You hurt me. Why did you do that."

"I…Jack…" Pitch looked down at his lap, back up at Jack, then off to the side. "You weren't afraid. I had you and you weren't afraid. I had won but you weren't defeated! How – I was just winning, Jack. Jack it wasn't – I was just…"

"Pitch," Jack cut him off.

"But then you were _scared_. So scared. You were so scared and there was no in-between. Why didn't you stop me?"

"I _couldn't_!" Jack was on his knees, staff in two tight bloody grips.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't –"

"Never. Again."

"No! Please, Jack," Pitch leaned forward, one hand in the mud.

"Wha-" Jack jumped back at Pitch's forward movement, stepping lightly to his feet, the warm air assisting his retreat. "No! I refuse! I won't let you just _torture_ me!"

Pitch climbed to his feet his arms out wide, imploring. "Anything! I'll do anything; just don't say this is the last time we fight. I'll do better next time, I won't let this happen again, I'll try harder, _I'm sorry_."

Jack frowned a bit confused, he hugged his staff close for comfort. "I…Do you get that what you did was not cool? You won yet you kept going, I couldn't fight back but you didn't stop. We're not enemies anymore I won't face you to be treated like that."

Pitch wrung his hands together, Jack could tell he was very upset, he had a hard time feeling guilty about it.

"…but, I wasn't implying I want to stop dueling forever because of that." Jack added in a small voice.

"Ah." Pitch straightened up, his expression lifting just a bit. "I, yes. I understand. I – I'll not do it again. I'll try. You were so scared. Panicked. It _scared me_." Pitch admitted, looking down to the side.

"You, scared?" Jack asked, leaning on his staff a bit, a small smile finally finding its way back to his lips.

"Terrified."

"Of me?"

"….for you." Pitch mumbled, rubbing his fingers across his knuckles. "You're…you've never…I've only seen you that scared a handful of times. In your nightmares…"

"Then you get it."

"I, uh…yes."

"Don't do it again."

"Most assuredly not…"

"Take me somewhere cold."

"Wha-?" Pitch looked up to Jack finally, finally meeting his eyes.

"Somewhere cold with fresh water, like the Alps, Himalayas, or the Tian Shans, The Rockies, I don't care. I want to take a cold bath and I don't feel like flying."

"…Are you sure?"

"Uh, yeah. Wouldn't have said it otherwise."

"Then come here."

Jack approached, and let Pitch wrap an arm around his shoulders. He was pleased that Pitch didn't comment on the flinch he couldn't help.


	21. A Sweet Dessert

Pitch paced back and forth in the foyer of his home. Everything today had to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. She was coming home to him, to live, to actually live here, with him, for however long he could swing it.

His daughter was coming home.

He wrung his hands together. If he didn't make things perfect she would be disappointed, she would hate him for certain and run back to her mother. That would not happen, he couldn't let that happen. Children were fickle and she couldn't rejoin Elisa. His ex-wife, Elisa, was slated to tour Asia and the middle east for work and it was no place for a child to live.

Pitch felt guilt twist at his stomach - that this was the only reason Seraphina was coming home, that he had failed her and Elisa all those years ago. No, none of that. He could be Kozmotis again, he would do it, for her. So everything needed to be perfect and where was the caterer? They were late, they were late and it would ruin everything and -

The doorbell rang.

Oh thank the moon.

He was at the door in an instant and swung it open. He paused a moment at the sight. His business had used Santoff Claussen Catering many times before, he knew the staff there farily well, but this guy...well he was certainly new. What were their standards on employee even? This kid looked like a punk. He was...attractive, but the white hair and gauged ears were certainly far from professional. He wore uniform well though, and Pitch really couldn't fault the kid if he did his job well.

The boy stepped beside his trolley of goods and gave a quick bow before thrusting out his hand for a shake.

"Mr. Pitchiner? I'm Jack, Jack Frost, I'm here with Santoff Claussen Catering to set-up for your event this evening?"

Ah, oh right. Pitch stepped to the side to let Jack enter his home, which he did, pushing his goods in before him.

"Yes, right. I'll show you the kitchen, and please call me Pitch." He said as he closed the door behind them. He heard a breathy chuckle and spun to meet Jack's eyes - who had the decency to look guilty.

"Sorry, Sir. It's Pitch Pitchiner?" Jack tried.

Pitch scowled. "It's Kozmotis Pitchiner. The kitchen this way," he said shortly, and turned out of his wide foyer through a large arch into a spacious dining room then to his massive kitchen just beyond.

He heard Jack behind him with the food give out a low whistle at the grandeur of his home. If there was anything he could be proud of it was the wealth he acquired and put away that he could now use full force for his daughter. He brought Jack into his kitchen and showed him where the fridge and freezer were behind faux cabinet doors.

"Please use whatever necessary. I'll check back in later." He said and retreated from the room, vaguely catching out of the corner of his eye Jack saluting him. He wasn't sure if he liked the punk yet. he had an attitude problem.

…

He had wasted some time in his study, catching up on emails and reviewing his RSVP's for the party tonight. People would arrive at four, dinner at six, dessert after and cocktails after, giving Sera her gifts… It was two now, he should check up on Jack.

He descended to his kitchen to the lovely smells of whatever Jack was making for them - it seemed heavenly. Rounding the corner, the kid stopped dead and looked up like a deer caught in the headlights. Pitch had to pause. Jack had his uniform sleeves rolled up, tattoos snaked down his arms to his wrists, and his phone was on the counter playing quiet music.

After the brief hesitation, Jack practically dropped the spoon in his rush to turn off his music.

"Sorry! Was it disturbing you? You left so I didn't think it-" He stuffed his phone back into his pants.

Pitch couldn't help his smile as he moved from the doorway to take a seat on one of the stools at the island. "No, it wasn't disturbing me, I was up in my study." He replied. "I left the food choice up to the company this time, what have you brought for us?" He crossed his arms on the counter and leaned forwards, looking over to the stove and the pile of foil travel dishes on the counter.

Jack smiled and stepped back, sweeping to the side and returning with a plate of different hors d'oeuvres setting it in front of Pitch. "Gee, I thought you'd never ask." He said with a grin, and gestured to the plate.

"For starters we brought stuffed figs with ricotta, pistachios, and honey. A sweet potato, bacon, and chive mix on endive. This one is a shiitake mushroom and goat cheese tart, and last is a smoked salmon, cucumber, and avocado topped toast. Please, try them, I think you'll approve."

Pitch did, and he certainly did. He hummed and yummed as Jack turned back around to tend to the oven and the large skillet and pot on the stove.

"These are great. More than I expected." Pitch said as he finished the last sample. He noted how Jack's ears seemed red, but it was probably because his white hair made all of him seem pinker than normal.

Jack came back to the counter with another plate with a small assortment of food. "I haven't begun most of dinner yet, I'm waiting so it will be fresh, but for the main course we have a veal marsala, prosciutto asparagus, and a zucchini, spinach, parm orzo. You said about eighty people tonight, what is the occasion?"

Pitch tried the entrees and paused a moment after swallowing, watching as Jack took his one dirty plate and began to pile things into the sink for washing.

"My daughter is returning home, just a get together with a few coworkers and the neighbors and their children so they can all meet and become friends. This is delicious."

Jack spoke over as his filled the sink with water. "Ah, is she coming back from college?"

"No, she is seven."

Pitch sat up straight, surprised, as Jack spun brandishing a spatula covered in soap suds his eyes wide. "Y-you're throwing a cocktail party for a seven-year-old?!"

"I - what - " Pitch stammered "No! It's a Garden Party! The invitations said Garden Party." He protested.

Jack dropped the spatula into the sink and wiped his hand down his face. "For a child. you are throwing a dinner party for a little girl. I - I don't even…"

Pitch stood up, horrified. Oh no. "What do you mean? Thats what people like! Everyone will be over and Sera will come and she will meet all of the neighborhood kids and become friends with them and learn who I work with and - Oh no." He stared at Jack. This was a disaster.

He ruined everything. This was an adult party, he planned for an adult party. "Oh no. She's going to hate me. She's going to be bored and want to go back with her mother and won't be able to and then she'll hate me -"

"Woah, woah there. Slow down!" Jack said, stepping out from behind the kitchen island and forcibly sitting Pitch back down on the stool.

He propped his elbow and hid his face in his hand. "I've ruined everything before it even happens-"

"Shhh, no hey, look here," Jack said tapping Pitch on the cheek.

He had no mind to be offended by the familiarity, and barely even registered how funny it was that Jack didn't even need to stoop down to get on Pitch's eye-level Pitch was so tall even sitting on a stool.

"Hey, how many kids will there be? What ages? Do you have a pool? How big is your backyard?"

"Uhm...like twenty or thirty kids… I think they're like… Well, I'm sure some of the mother's will be toting toddlers but I think the oldest that they could make come are seventeen? Yeah, there's a pool out back and uhm… it's big, I guess," he mumbled, looking out the window wall beyond the dining room to his back patio, pool, and yard.

Jack placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "I can make this good, do you want me to? Trust me?"

Pitch just looked at him, his mouth open and nodded.

"Ok. Ok, let me make a few phone calls. Just sit tight, I'll fix everything."

…

He was stupefied as three-thirty rolled around and the all of the window doors in his dining room were open and pushed back, inviting the outside in, as lights were strung around the patio, as his swimming pool filled with fun noodles and inner tubes. An inflatable bouncy castle was almost fully erect.

Jack's white head bobbed around outside, lighting up tiki torches even if it was still perfectly sunny outside. North, the owner of the business had rolled in a huge black barrel grill not even fifteen minutes after Jack called in.

It was...chaos. His stomach twisted. Was this good? Was this what people would like better than what he planned?

A coldness touched on his fingers that rested upon the counter. He looked over and Tooth, who was smiling as she nudged a snifter of dark amber towards him. Gratefully, Pitch took the alcohol and nearly downed it. It was his own whiskey. He looked over at Tooth who slid the rest of the decanter towards him.

"Don't worry, Mr. Pitchiner."

"How can I not?" he asked as he poured himself another glass, then offered Tooth some. She refused politely.

"Can't. I'm working! But Jack knows kids, he has it under control. And not much is changing! we're swapping out the veal for a smoked brisket, thats about it."

"That jumping jungle thing doesn't look like 'not much'…"

"Ah, well Jack called in a few favors."

"How much is this going to cost?"

"Nothing! As I said, Jack called in a few favors. I think he's taken a liking to you!" Tooth poked him on the shoulder. Pitch straightened and looked at her a bit stunned. He then looked outside and caught Jack turning away from looking at him just the same. Oh. ...really?

"R-really?" He croaked, taking another sip of his drink.

"Er…" Tooth got off of the counter and turned back towards the stove and the food she had taken over cooking for Jack. "I dunno!" She chirped lightly, busying herself.

…

Ok. Ok, with a few drinks in him Pitch had to admit this _was_ good. Great even. This was turning out splendidly.

People started showing up a bit after four, Jack had the hors d'oeuvres out on the dining room table, Tooth manned the kitchen and the preparation for the entrees, North was outside at the grill casually tending the smoker. Sanderson, one of the caterers Pitch knew a little better than the others, was at the island with the drinks, mixing up fruity concoctions for the adults and colorful punch for the few children that have arrived.

Jack was...Well Jack was floating at the moment with a tray of snacks and politely talking with a few of Pitch's neighbors. It was all….much more casual than he expected. It was wonderful though. Acquaintances complimented him, were impressed, loved his home and his hospitality, couldn't wait to meet his daughter.

Sera. Sera was showing up any minute. Oh lord, he hadn't seen her or Elisa in years...They were…

The doorbell rang again, Pitch flinched. His phone buzzed and he reached in his pocket as he made his way through his home. It read _we're here_.

He swallowed hard and counted to three before swinging open the door.

"Daddy!" He immediately stumbled backwards having to catch his balance as forty pounds of daughter leapt into his arms. He couldn't stop the twirl and swing as he hugged her to him. Sera. His Sera was home.

"Seraphina!" He kissed the top of her head and hugged her to himself, she wrapped her legs around his waist, glomming on. He looked up and met eyes with Elisa.

Elisa, who looked radiant and professional and every bit the woman he had fallen in love with. Elisa, who approached and kissed him on the cheek and ruffled Sera's hair and stepped back.

"Be good for Daddy now, Sera," she said.

Sera cinched her leg around Pitch's waist and let go with her arms, leaning back almost the whole way sticking her hands out for her mother. Pitch had to hold her at the sides to keep her from falling.

"I will, mum! You be good too!" She laughed as Elisa leaned over and kissed Sera's nose upside down.

"I'm always good." Her mother said. Pitch lifted his daughter back up.

"Won't you come in for dinner?" He offered. He knew she wouldn't accept.

"Thank you, but no, I can't. I have a flight to catch."

"I see. Well, good luck," he said and stepped back.

Elisa waved and gave Sera another kiss goodbye before retreating. She turned back once she was at her car, Pitch still watching her go. "Be strict with her! She needs some discipline," she called before getting into her car and driving away to Pitch and Sera waving.

"Only as strict as necessary," he said to Sera.

She giggled and hugged him. "Which is not at all!"

He couldn't help the laugh as he closed the front door and turned to go back to the party. He swore he caught a flash of white retreating back to the kitchen.

…

Jack was...he was a wonder. There was nothing else to describe it.

One moment the kid was ushering children to and from the bouncy castle, in there with them, jumping, launching them into the air. The next he was at the pool, throwing kids into the water, getting pushed in, having fun noodle sword fights. Wherever he went screams and laughter and soaking wet children followed him. He single handedly was the life of the party.

The kids loved him, grabbing at his heels, clinging to his legs preventing him from walking and tackling him into the grass. The parents loved him too, he was polite and sociable before his attentions were drawn elsewhere and then he was the best distraction to let the adults interact without having to worry about their children nagging them relentlessly.

The food was served effortlessly by the other caterers and the drinks flowed generously. Really it was… It was the best party he had even been a part of, he would have never pulled something off like this without Jack's help.

He couldn't help watching the boy, His shirt had been torn off of him nearly an hour ago by the kids and Pitch saw both of his arms adorned with tattoos up to his shoulders and across his back..it was, well it was uncouth, but so attractive…

Most of all though, Sera loved him. And Pitch noticed how Jack took extra care to introduce her and include her into the games, maybe even lavishing his attention on her a little more than the other children. Just enough that Pitch could see the other kids in a bit of awe at the girl who was the favorite of Jack Frost. It was clever. Perfect. Just what he wanted for his daughter. To make friends, as many as possible.

"Daddy!" she shrieked as she ran at him full speed, some girls and Jack chasing after her. She rounded around him and hid behind his legs, using him as a shield. "Save me, Daddy!"

Pitch bent down and she crawled onto his back. He stood up and she clung to him like an expert monkey. He wielded a plastic spoon at the attackers. "What am I protecting my princess from?"

"From Jack!" She shouted and Jack stopped short and stood up straight, brushing water off his stomach and adopting the most innocent expression Pitch had ever seen.

"From me? Naw. Never," he said, smiling mischievously.

"Don't believe him! He's after me!"

"Me? Why I never!" Jack said, picking up a spoon from the nearby table and holding it out like a sword.

Pitch fell into stance and smirked. "I'll have you know I took fencing in college."

"Oh boy!" Jack said and stepped back, dropping the spoon and holding his hands up in surrender. "I know when I've met my match! Fencing in college! Why, I cannot hope to compare!"

Seraphina giggled on Pitch's back and he straightened and set his spoon down. "Good that you know when you're defeated."

"Daddy!" Sera said and climbed higher on his back. "Daddy, mummy said that you have to be sure to pick a good babysitter and I want Jack! She said I need to interview whoever you decide and if I don't like them then you can't hire them! I want Jack. Jack is good, you should pick Jack!"

Pitch fumbled and gaped. Of course Elisa said that. Sera was barely home a few hours and of course Elisa said that and of course this was what Sera remembered. He frowned and looked at Jack then reached around hefting Sera to his front to hold her.

"Sera. Jack has a job. He made this party for you, he can't just be your babysitter. Hey. Even if we like him a lot, it's a lot to ask - "

"I'll do it!" Jack nearly squawked and stepped up.

Pitch looked at him. Sera laughed and hugged at his neck.

"I'd be happy to help out! I mean...I, uh. I do have this job, and it takes up most of my time, but I can work around it and look after her whenever I can.." Jack trailed of, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"Pleeeeeeease daddy?" Sera whined.

"Er…" Pitch backtracked a bit and stared at Jack like he was a completely new person. "Really? I mean...its basically just after school until I get home, like from uh...3 to 6?"

Jack frowned a little and leaned on one hip as he thought for a moment.

"Hey North!" He shouted over to his boss, who was cutting brisket at the grill. "Can I have my lunch break from 3 to 6 on weekdays?"

North looked up and frowned, then glanced over, saw Pitch and grinned a little behind his beard. Pitch would question that look more if he hadn't had a bit more whiskey to calm his nerves since Sera arrived.

"Sure, Jack! You just stay three hours late and close up at night, yeah?"

"Sounds perfect!" Jack shouted and turned back towards Pitch all smiles. "Look at that, I just so happen to be available just at those times. What a coincidence."

"Ah...uh...Well, if you do not mind."

"He totally doesn't mind!" Sera laughed, then twisted and practically leapt out of his arms and into Jack's. "Throw me into the pool again!"

"Ah, no, I don't mind! Ok ok, let's go." Jack said all smiles and laughter as he carried Sera back to the fun.

…

Pitch sat at his designated stool with his glass of refilled whiskey, his decanter almost empty now, watching as North rolled the grill away. The castle was a deflated mess in his yard, his pool looked like it was a foot shallower. Tooth had packed up their kitchen supplies hours ago. Sera was asleep in her new bedroom on her new bed with the new stuffed animals that she instantly loved.

It had been...so much more than he could ever have imagined. He felt like a real father again, like he was worthy, like he was Kozmotis again.

The fuzz of the alcohol made him grin. Everything was absolutely perfect right now. Sera was ecstatic with joy all evening, he was immensely pleased that his neighbors were so impressed. He made a great impression. He had always been rather reclusive in the neighborhood, but now...now he had a new image, hope and a bright interactive future. For Sera.

Because of Jack…

Jack who was fishing the pool toys out to pack up, and wrapping up the cord to the air pump...Jack who looked amazing without a shirt on, whose pants were rolled up and dripping, barefoot, his hair plastered to his head.

He looked a little sunburnt too. Pitch finished his drink and stood up, making his way outside.

North's car started up and he heard it drive away, Tooth and Sandy were long gone. It was just Jack and him now, like before.

"Jack," he said, leaning against a chair.

Jack stood up abruptly and spun to face Pitch, clutching a pool noodle. "Y-Yes?" he squeaked.

Pitch grinned and stood up straight, stepping closer. "I can't thank you enough for what you did. For Sera...me."

He watched as Jack blushed. It was...really attractive.

"No, it was nothing. Really. I'm glad it all worked out," he said as he set the toy aside, onto the pile of the others.

"No, it wasn't nothing. It was amazing. And then...You don't have to babysit, I know Sera put you on the spot. I can explain it to her, it was really nice what you offered."

"No! I was serious. North agreed, I have the time, I can do it. I'd...like to do it." Jack confessed, his expression open, inviting.

Pitch leaned in, having approached Jack, invading his personal space, accepting the invitation. He brought his hand up, to touch Jack's face.

But Jack ducked away.

Pitch straightened, and stepped back. He was...Oh god. He was far too drunk, what did he just do? "Sorry!" he said, stepping back.

"-ried?" Jack said. He didn't catch it.

"What?"

"Y-you're married! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to give that im-"

"I'm divorced," Pitch hurried to rectify.

Jack looked up at him, his blue eyes practically blazing in the string lights behind them. "Are you serious?"

"Uh.." Pitch said taken back. "Yeah? Sera's mother just dropped her off before she flew to Pakistan…"

"But you looked so in love-" Jack caught himself and turned away picking up the pool toys "Sorry, nevermind."

"In love?"

"Er…." Jack straightened and clutched the foam toys to his bare chest. "With her... she kissed you?"

"Ah. Oh. You were watching?" Pitch asked, but as Jack turned away, his face blazing red, he continued. "I mean, we're not in love. We're friends and civil because of Sera, but love fell away years ago I'm...I'm unattached…"

Jack turned back, blushing furiously but with a smile now. "Really?"

"Really," Pitch felt his own face heating up. This was rather embarrassing.

"Then…" Jack shifted the toys to his side and stepped up to him again. "Then I'd like it...if you followed through on that intention earlier."

"Really?" Pitch asked.

"Really."

So he did. He leaned in and pressed his lips to the cool damp lips of the saviour of his parenthood and his new babysitter, Jack Frost.


End file.
